Infinite Stratos IS Gaiden: Ren
by Wavehawk00
Summary: Tales of a girl with the Eyes of a Snake. Stories take place between Vol 3-6 of the Infinite Stratos light novel.
1. 1 Girl with eyes like a snake

_Silent as a shadow  
>And wild as a storm<br>A tale of a girl with  
>The eyes of a snake<em>

* * *

><p><strong>IS  Gaiden**

* * *

><p><strong>July 25th<strong>

The golden-blonde schoolgirl ahead hadn't noticed him yet.

_That's good,_ Roland Cousseran smiled quietly as tailed his target at a distance. _It's all going to plan._

The target he stalked was the daughter of his boss and uncle. The Company's owner was a man of power and influence whom Roland wished to curry favour with. That girl of blonde locks and elegant bearing had disobeyed her father's command, revealing a secret the company would have rather kept silent.

She happened to also be an exceptionally talented pilot of the Infinite Stratos exoskeleton system, the reason she was here in this foreign land.

_But still just a fifteen-year old girl._

It was simple, really. All he had to do was to walk up to the girl and confront her with news of her father's orders. Roland knew she was an obedient child-despite her wilfulness, she would not resist her family after all.

There were other complications that Cousseran did not care about. He'd heard family talk of 'solving the matter quietly', and did not think things through. If he brought this girl back, under the noses of the authorities of this east asian country, he would be highly regarded in the corporation. Regarded as a problem-solver by the rest of the family.

All he needed was to bring the girl home.

_Easy enough task, _he mused. The timing was perfect, and the opportunity was there.

That is, until he heard the ringing of his mobile phone.

_What the hell? _He stopped a second and opened up the device cautiously. "Oui?"

"Did you really think you could pick her off the street just like that, Messr. Roland Cousseran?" the firm voice of a woman spoke to him-in fluent French.

"Who is this?" Cousseran was flustered, but hid it well as he continued to stalk his quarry. The flow of people was steady, and he could still see the blonde girl ahead.

"Stop at that tree before you regret it."

Roland then froze. Yes, he was right next to a tree-the only tree on the pedestrian walk for yards.

_How did she get this number? How does she know me? _The girl he had been tailing was now almost out of sight. "What do you want?"

"Abducting an Infinite Stratos (IS) Academy student, and a country representative at that? It'll cause an even bigger incident than the one you're desperately trying to hush up." The voice almost seemed to chuckle. "Rather sloppy work, I might add."

He spun his head around, scanning for the source. There were not many passers-by, and not any of them were on a mobile phone. They were also all Japanese, and Cousseran doubted any of them could speak English, much less his native French.

"Tell Dunois Industry to give it up, Messr. Roland."

He tried bluffing. "How do you know I work for the company and not the French Government, little lady?"

Something like a wasp buzzed past Roland's ear and landed with a soft THUNK into the tree behind him.

"Because I'd like to assume the French _Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure _isn't as stupid as you seem to imply."

Roland then realized the hot flush across his earlobe was from a razor-thin cut. Barely visible was the small throwing knife embedded into the tree's trunk. And still none of the passers-by seemed to even notice.

_How the hell-? _there were a few on their mobile phones walking to and fro, but none seemed to be the person he was speaking to. Much less the person who threw a knife at him just then.

"Seriously, Messr. Roland. You don't want to die here."

Roland grits his teeth, then caught sight of a woman on the walking bridge he had just passed half a minute before. She looked tall for a Japanese woman, wearing sharp business clothes and glasses. Even at this distance, Roland could feel her imperious glare as she spoke into the mobile phone she held.

"You wouldn't dare," he hissed, defiant despite the trembling fear building in him. _How can she have thrown that tiny blade from that distance?_

"This isn't France, Messr. Roland." The woman continued to speak on her end. "And while the Academy itself does not belong to any one nation, the surrounding area is Japanese territory and responsibility. You're already violating a few local laws just by being here."

"And what could a civil servant from a nation of pacifists do to me?" Roland sneered, trying to hide the anxiety from his voice. "If you're a police officer, all you can do is arrest me."

"Oho. Whoever said I was with the police?" The woman gave a most wicked grin as she reached into her shirt pocket.

That broke the man's nerve.

"I'll leave," Cousseran bit back the profanity and bile as he retreated from her sight. _But don't think this is the last you've heard from me._

* * *

><p><em>Oh lord, that was totally not my character at all.<em>

Haruko finally relaxes as the man she'd been talking to on the phone had disappeared from sight. Removing her glasses, she bent forward, catching her breath-she'd been holding it all this time as she put up the act. Now, it was all she could do from letting her knees buckle.

"I am **SO **not a field operative."

"You could have had him talking for longer. I wanted to see him wet his pants."

A slender young girl with a baseball cap, jacket and pants approached her. At first glance, most wouldn't pick her as any more extraordinary than any other fifteen-year old girl. Her face was softly shaped, the youthful cheeks a direct contrast to the cold crease of her lips. Gloved hands toyed with a little throwing knife that she just as quickly hid with a flick of her wrist.

"Dammit, [Ren]!" Haruko gave her exasperated answer. "Next time, do this yourself! I can't take it!"

"I can't speak French. Also," [Ren] lifted the cap from her head and fanned herself with it. Black hair fell to her shoulders, framing a pretty face and a cool smile. "How many people ever take an innocent young girl seriously?"

Haruko sighed with defeat. The shock passed quickly as she stood.

_Innocent? You? _Behind that pretty baby face was one of the most wicked people she'd ever met. "Why did you use one of your knives on him, anyway? It was hard pretending that I planned that!"

"Knives are silent. No gunpowder residue. Retrievable." [Ren] turned to prop her back against the bridge railing. "Unless you've forgotten that Japan is still a gunless society, Miss intelligence expert."

"That's not what I meant!" Haruko shook her head and gave another exaggerated sigh. "I wish you wouldn't speak or act so bluntly. You didn't _really_have to throw a knife at him, did you?"

"Nope." [Ren] just shrugs.

_I can't deal with you, _Haruko mentally gave up on the matter-for better or worse, their working relationship was like that. To ease her stress, she reached into her bag. The can of Blue Mountain coffee she had been reserving all day felt like a welcome treat at the end of such a tough job.

"You drink too much coffee," [Ren] quipped.

"Shut up. I thought our main mission was to watch Orimura?" Haruko pulled the can ring open and savoured the roast coffee scent. "Whether Dunois Industries tries to get their daughter back is none of our business."

"Dunois is part of Orimura's inner circle of friends," was [Ren]'s nonchalant reply. "For her to disappear suddenly would cause Orimura to overreact badly."

"Overreact? In what way?"

"That blockheaded idiot would break a large number of international laws to protect any one of those girls he knows." There was the hint of a pout on [Ren]'s lips as she said that. "Really, acting like a white knight in this day and age. It's not like they need his protection."

"[Ren]-san? You almost sound jealous."

"I've told you before, I don't like those girls." [Ren] leaned further back against the rail, watching the blue of the early summer sky. "It's nothing personal."

_Oh boy, here we go again. _Haruko felt like sinking. Once again, she'd opened up an opportunity for [Ren] to complain.

"Houki Shinonono has serious anger management issues. She's halfway near killed Orimura already on more than one occasion for little things as simple as a joke." [Ren] replaced the cap on her head. "Cecilia Alcott would be a lot more effective if you let most of the air out of that empty head of hers."

_Your way of speaking is __**WAY**__ too blunt, _A grimacing Haruko keeps the thought to herself, but lets her partner continue.

"Laura Bodewig's exceptional skills in piloting an Infinite Stratos pale in comparison to her complete lack of common sense." [Ren] scoffed without taking her eyes off the opposite horizon. "And Fan Lin Yin? No chest. No self-control. No sex appeal. No chance in hell. Just my professional opinion."

_That's plain old backbiting, and you know it! _The grimace grew even wider as Haruko's face turned purple. "What about Charlotte Dunois?"

[Ren]'s lips disappear to a crease on her face.

"I had no idea she was female when she first transferred in."

"They sacked the entire French desk at Johohonbu because of that lapse in intel." Haruko took another swig of her canned coffee. She had been an analyst with the European desk of the Johohonbu-Japan's Defence Intelligence Headquarters-prior to her transfer to this assignment.

"Right. She even had me fooled. It didn't help that Orimura helped her cover it up for awhile as well," [Ren] massaged her forehead, as if feeling a headache. "Really, the government should have just locked that idiot up in a concrete box somewhere and thrown away the key. Save us all this trouble and serve that moron right."

_That was so blunt you could beat someone to death with it! _Haruko felt like collapsing. "Aren't you being just a little too harsh?"

"Orimura's surrounded by all kinds of troublesome people." [Ren] almost spat. "Monitoring him means keeping an eye over the rest of his group. If it means we meddle in Dunois Industries' affairs, then we might as well."

"But I'll admit, it would have been nice if that Dunois really was a boy," there was an almost wistful, dreamy look on Haruko's face-thoroughly out of place with her businesslike attire. "He would be the most adorable boy a girl would love to take home with her."

"Shut up. Act your age. She's not a pet dog."

"Eh? That's it? You really have nothing bad to say about Dunois, do you?" Haruko notes, then snickers mischievously. "O-ho-ho. Could it be that you _also_found her cute as a guy? Was there some attraction? Did you even have fantasies about 'him' when-?"

**SNIK.**

The bottom of the can of coffee spilled out, neatly cut open by a knife too fast to see.

Haruko let out a shrill wail.

"_-My three hundred and twenty-nine yen Blue Mountain blend coffee!_"

"Anger Management calls this 'a healthy venting of frustration'." [Ren] just walked off, an arrogant satisfied smirk on her face. "You drink too much coffee anyway. 'Ta."

Still holding the empty can, Haruko found herself staring at [Ren]'s back as she walked off.

_God, why do I have to partner with such a difficult person?_

* * *

><p><strong>July 1st<strong>

_From today, I'm partnering with an awesome person._

Kokuto Haruko of the Johohonbu (Japan Defence Intelligence Headquarters) stood silently, in front of n apartment door unremarkable in the afternoon light. Her first true field assignment. The thought gave her chills, the realization of dreams and fantasies she'd had since high school.

An assignment that was critical not only to her home country, but the world as she knew it.

Infinite Stratos Academy. An educational organization dedicated to the training and development of pilots for the Infinite Stratos, or IS. The IS was the most sophisticated type of technology in the world, originally developed for space exploration but now used for both military and sporting purposes.

In a nutshell, it was probably the most important responsibility for Japan as a whole.

While the school itself was not privy to any one nation, it was located on Japanese soil. Thus, it was the Japanese government's duty to provide protection for all those enrolled there.

She calmed herself, then prepared to knock.

"Door's unlocked."

_How did she-?_ Haruko blinked at the female voice from inside, and how she knew someone was there. _That voice sounded a lot younger than I expected._

Slowly, she turned the knob. Opening the door, she cautiously peered inside. Making her first steps into the apartment, she noticed the room was barren of furniture or decoration, save a chair and table to which a computer was affixed. The computer was being used by a girl much younger than Haruko was, almost ignorant of her entry. Aside from the table and chair a plain bed sat, markedly unused in the far corner.

"I'm the replacement analyst sent by the Johohonbu (Defence Intelligence Headquarters), Kokuto Haruko reporting." A pause as she took in the details of the room and its sole inhabitant. "You're [Ren]?"

"You were expecting someone older." A cold fact, not a question.

_That's an understatement. _The girl before her did not turn to face her. She looked no older than fifteen at least-almost half Kokuto's age. Absolutely nothing like what was in her file, at first glance.

What Haruko had read of [Ren] seemed straight out of a mystery adventure novel. That [Ren] was a deep-cover investigative agent, with a talent for solving problems that other, older members of the Johohonbu were unable to make heads or tails of. That [Ren] had a strange knack for finding what couldn't be found. That [Ren], aggressive as she was, could make the impossible possible. That [Ren] was one of the legendary Koga or Iga ninja clans.

At the moment, Kokuto couldn't reconcile those stories with the baby-faced teenager in front of her.

"Uhm, can I ask a question?"

"Act your age. You're an adult, stop asking for permission to look stupid."

_That was blunt! _Haruko visibly recoiled at the words.

"Well?"

"Why am I here? Assigned to you, that is?"

"We have only two missions. First is to monitor Orimura Ichika and ensure nobody tries to kidnap or assassinate him." [Ren] almost seemed to recite this from memory-the boredom in her voice was striking. "Second is to uncover Shinonono Tabane's whereabouts and secure her if possible."

"No, that's not it. I know what our mission is," Haruko started to worry even more. "I mean: Why am I replacing the previous analyst assigned to you?"

"He was a pain." Not explaining anything, the girl was still focused on the monitor screen. Even as she cautiously stepped closer, the screen contents were still not visible to Kokuto's eyes. "You've read the dossiers?"

"Yes I have," Haruko coughed, fighting the temptation to ask about her predecessor further. "Orimura Ichika. 15 years-"

"Toss them. The information on those documents is static. Put together by some stupid cranky old mailroom clerk from Australia."

Only then did [Ren] look away from the screen, and Haruko shuddered when the girl's eyes met hers. It was like matching stares with a snake-it seemed that her eyes glowed, but Kokuto dismissed the thought as mere fearful imagination. Still, it was a look that was disturbing enough that Haruko made note not to look the girl directly in the eye when they spoke.

"I need your opinion. What are your thoughts on Orimura Ichika?"

"Ah?" Haruko, still avoiding [Ren]'s direct gaze, registered the question and answered. "He's cute."

[Ren]'s stone face raised one eyebrow.

"I mean, he is. Physically. And his behaviour is just so representative of old-fashioned chivalry. Like a white knight in shining armour-"

"**STOP **right there. That'll do." [Ren] looked back at the screen, wore a shrug, and then stood up. "Now that we're acquainted, I need to go."

"EHH? But I just got here!"

"Shut up. You're an analyst." [Ren] turned the chair around, and shoved it into Kokuto's floundering arms. "So, analyse."

"Do you have to be so blunt?" Haruko complained in a near-whine as she rescued the tossed chair.

"My job is to stop problems before they start. Patience is no virtue to me." [Ren] pulled a jacket off the floor, followed by a baseball cap. She donned both with casual efficiency. "Do your job and I'll do mine."

_She's not an analyst or a hacker._ Haruko swallowed, realizing the implications. _[Ren] is a field operative._Aloud: "Why is someone as young as you involved?"

"It should be obvious. When tailing the target, someone of their age group is far less suspicious than an adult." [Ren] replies without truly answering the question. "There was even a plan to have me transfer into IS Academy at one point."

_That makes sense._" Why didn't they go ahead with that?"

"Simple," For the first time, she saw a bitter grin on [Ren]'s face. "I can't move an IS. At all."

* * *

><p><strong>July 25th<strong>

_Damn that woman. Damn her._

Cousseran swore under his breath within the safety of his hotel room. There was a small bandage over the cut on his ear, an indignity that Roland had to bear with as he looked in the bathroom mirror.

_A trick. It has to be._

Though he was shaken by the abruptness of the woman's interference, that fear was now subsiding. Roland was now rethinking his options, his chances of success. The expenses he'd taken just to fly into this country were bad enough. The amounts he'd invested to bribe local officials the other way were astronomical. There was no way he was leaving without Charlotte-either in tow or in the luggage if he had to.

It was his one shot at success in the company. The one chance at greatness that he was simply unable to turn down.

A moment passed as he considered his options, and with a wry smile he decided to go with the one that was most rash.

_I'll need some backup._

He needed to make a few calls.

* * *

><p><strong>July 26th<strong>

The apartment had changed slightly in the days since they first met. Haruko insisted on something more human than a bed and a table. The bed was replaced with a bunk, and a reading table was added. The room still lacked the colour to be called a home, but it was definitely more than what it had.

Since the month's beginnings, Haruko had been working to keep her partner informed an occupied. While local police and the Academy's own teachers were primarily responsible for the visible security of the area, she and [Ren] were in charge of the behind-the-scenes work. It was quiet for the most part, but there were moments of sheer terror in between, such as a botched kidnapping attempt on Cecilia Alcott and sightings of Shinonono Tabane in the immediate area of IS Academy.

And now, this affair with Roland Cousseran.

"You think he'll try again?" [Ren] asked, even as she toyed with the paper-thin blade she was currently studying.

"Absolutely." Haruko nodded. "Roland Cousseran hasn't made any changes to his schedule here in Japan. And he's made a few encoded calls back to France. Johohonbu HQ is decrypting it right now, but I don't think he called to throw in the towel."

"So Messr Cousseran is too stupid to know when to quit?"

"More like far too greedy." Kokuto stretched backward in her chair-another improvement as she made a request for a proper ergonomic one to use. "He thinks that by taking back Charlotte Dunois he can help the company save face and get promoted."

"The revelation that Charlotte Dunois is female already blew up in Dunois Industries' face." [Ren] deftly flicked a wrist, and the paper-thin blade disappeared, hidden in one jacket sleeve. "Why the hell do they think they can cover it up now?"

"My guess? They want to use her as a scapegoat."

[Ren] was indifferent. "Explain."

_Saying 'please' every once in a while won't kill you, you know! _Haruko wore a look of distaste. "Nepotism. Dunois Industries is a family-owned company. No shareholders to influence company decisions or to threaten funding. Not unlike some asian corporate dynasties, actually. They tend to promote family members over more qualified outsiders. It also means non-family executives get axed first. That also means a lot of backstabbing involved. Keeping it all in the family."

A flick, three knives identical in shape, appeared in [Ren]'s hands.  
>"...and since Charlotte Dunois is an illegitimate daughter?"<p>

A nod from Kokuto. "They can deny responsibility for the deception. If they physically bring Charlotte back, they can basically shift the blame to certain non-family individuals in the company-or at least family members they can afford to axe. Don't you think it was strange that according to record, the chairman of Dunois industries only met his daughter Charlotte twice?"

"He can categorically deny any involvement or knowledge." [Ren] hid the blades once again, making a white-knuckled fist. "It saves the main company and its CEO."

"While effectively cutting loose minor company executives." Haruko scratched the nape of her neck with a pen. "Cousseran isn't well liked by most of the Dunois clan, either. If he can bring his cousin back, he's practically guaranteed a promotion. They'd promote him just to shut him up."

"Cousseran is what? Second cousin, once removed, from Charlotte Dunois?"

"Third cousin, actually." Kokuto drew a yawn as she read the onscreen file in front of her. "A middle-manager in the company's arms and security division. Essentially the head of Dunois' security forces."

The cackle from [Ren] froze Haruko's blood cold.

"That idiot, in charge of Dunois Industries security? I'm surprised the company hasn't gone under already." A flick of [Ren]'s left hand opened up with a fan made of throwing darts. Her face turned instantly serious. "He can't even tell when someone with a knife is standing right next to him. How the hell can he be in charge of securing _ANYTHING_?"

"Blood is thicker than water." Haruko finally got over the chilling laugh. "It's a family thing, but I don't think storge love has anything to do with it."

"-Storge?"

"Obligatory love." Kokuto sighed. _As if you'd understand the concept of love! _"The kind of love associated between family members."

"Stop trying to make yourself sound smart."

_No, I won't. I will not make fun of someone who can turn me into a pincushion. _Haruko threw up her hands, giving up visibly. "You know, [Ren]? You and Charlotte Dunois are polar opposites. She's an absolute angel."

"And I'm the devil, right?" The wicked gleam in [Ren]'s eye gave Haruko a fiery cold chill. "I don't mind the comparison. It's not like I have any competition in that race."

"_-are you actually taking that as a compliment?_"

"Shut up."

* * *

><p><strong>July 28th<strong>

The whine of engines was muffled now, as the private Dunois Industries executive jet slowed to a crawl into the company's hangar at Tokyo International airport. The plane had just completed its third cross-country hop, officially stopping only to rest and refuel. The local airport's security and customs official was not easily bribed, but an amount in excess of seven digits could make most men bend.

_It took five million Euros to make a man go on break for thirty minutes, _Roland hissed. He hoped that the investment was worth it-it was hard enough shipping in 24 of his most trusted security personnel into the country. Harder still for said security to fly in with their personalized weaponry.

The jet opened up, and from it the faces of tall, hard-bitten men strode outward. Each one carried large duffel bags, a mixed crew of individuals. Some were clean-shaven and garbed in pragmatic polo shirts. Others were less presentable with tattoos and bare meaty shoulders. Still others looked like former soldiers, or like stereotypical Hollywood-movie mercenaries.

None of them looked even remotely French.

Two dozen of Dunois Industries' toughest security agents filed in to report to their boss.

"Sir." The largest of them looked as if he was freshly chiselled from stone.

Cousseran nodded, and gestured to his lackeys harshly. They were officially never here, the paperwork he'd filed indicated the security contingent was 'on a training exercise' twenty kilometres closer to the equator. Nowhere near Japan, much less IS Academy.

The squad filed quietly into the hangar and received their passports and orders. Slowly, they broke up into smaller groups, entering the airport separately as tourists, businessmen, and mere passers-by. To the crowds of the airport, they stirred no attention, just another large group of men passing through. In this day and age of women being superior to men, the mixed group from Dunois were ignored. Some casually, others intentionally.

All in all they flowed through unnoticed in crowds.

Little did they know their every move was watched.

* * *

><p>Looking through the Johohonbu's secret feed-in from the airport's security cameras, Haruko sighed.<p>

"-Where did these idiots learn about covert operations, an Arnold Schwarznegger movie?"

* * *

><p>[Ren] was silent. Blank white screen.<p>

It was so white it was black, in her mind. There was no colour.

Like the very first old movies, complete with the hiss and crackle of a projector spinning old film. Not even music, except for the sound of her voice in her own head.

She stared at a distant pair, a dark-haired girl with a ponytail walking to school with a boy her age. Her blood boiled.  
><em>"Why is he with you?"<em>

"[Ren]?"

Another sight. The same boy, happily talking to another girl with long light-blonde hair and elegant demeanour.  
><em>"I met him first."<em>

"[Ren]?"

The boy again, this time in argument with a girl shorter than he. The silver-grey hair swayed, but not in anger. Rather, the girl was amused.  
><em>"I saw him first."<em>

"[Ren]?"

Again, the boy. Silently carrying a smaller, twin-ponytailed girl on his back with the greatest of care.  
><em>"He cared about me first."<em>

"[Ren]?"

Finally, a sight of that boy walking away, with the hand of another girl in his. The girl, her warm smile making her golden blonde locks glow. That warmth only made [Ren] feel colder.  
><em>"If none of you existed, I would have a chance."<em>

"[Ren]?"

_"He should have fallen for me first."_

Then she was alone. In a field of long, bladelike grass. The purple-red skies moaned overhead. The silence, the colours, and the field seemed as if she were all alone in world made up of swords.

A bite of pain, like a thousand needles into her right arm. She looked at six lines drawn in blood on her arm's skin. An inescapable reminder of who she was.  
><em>"It's just not fair."<em>

"[Ren]? [Ren]?"

**July 29th**

[Ren] woke up, eyes opening to the sight of her right arm raised. She never even realized that she had been asleep, much less dreaming.

"Are you awake yet?"

"Shut up, Haruko." [Ren] ran a palm through her scalp, slowly shaking sleep from her eyes. The dream was not new. Garbled, but not new. The memories of a past, re-filmed for her now older-mind to process.

For a long while [Ren] observed the tattoo on her arm, marking the lineage of her family. A red mark, Six lines. Three straight and three broken. The symbol for both 'water' and 'fire', representing the 63rd hexagram of the I-Ching. An unwritten word that meant two opposite yet identical ideals working in perfect harmony.

The mark of her family.

"I swear, you looked dead. You don't move at all when you sleep." There was a look of restrained mockery on Haruko's face. "Don't you ever dream?"

"Shut up."

[Ren] rose to a sitting position. One of the many reasons she wore a jacket was to hide that symbol. It was not something that meant anything to ordinary people, but still was a mark [Ren] did not wish to advertise.

"Cousseran looks like he's about to make his move." Kokuto turned the computer monitor so that [Ren] could see. Onscreen a couple of video feeds were seen. Inside a warehouse of sorts, an old machine factory now populated with terrible, threatening men with weapons. "He's actually going to try and take Charlotte Dunois from IS Academy by force."

"As expected of a complete idiot and his stooges."

_Can you not sound so confident? They have __**GUNS! **_Haruko involuntarily started knocking her head in vexation. "I'll call Johohonbu HQ to action this."

"They won't make it in time. Too much bureaucracy."

"Look, conventional weaponry can't even deal with a first-generation IS unless it's an all-out war of attrition. Fighting mercenaries is not our job." Haruko obliged her partner. "Our job is covert counter-intelligence and protecting Orimura. Leave the slugfests to the actual fighters."

"Remember what I said about Orimura being an idiot?" [Ren] began, and did not stop to let it sink in. "With or without his IS, he'll try to interfere. And even if successful, it's going to be a mess dealing with two dozen armed and trained security personnel. There's more students in that school without access to an IS exoskeleton than with."

Haruko did not like where this was heading. "True, but-"

"And if one of Dunois armed security even sets foot inside the Academy itself, it'll be a public relations nightmare for Japan as well, right? We'll be criticized for not ensuring the safety of students in the academy-foreign national representatives at that. I don't think even the Prime Minister would appreciate that."

The analyst stopped dead silent.

"All we need to do is stop them from setting foot in IS Academy," [Ren] stood up, picking her jacket off the floor. There was a tinkling of metal heard as she put it on. "It's something I can do easily."

"Don't be so arrogant." A genuine look of worry spread across Haruko's face. "You've never had to fight that many armed men before."

"You mean you haven't seen me fight that many armed men before."

_Times like this, I don't know if you're just that confident or utterly insane. Yes, I'll go with insane. _Haruko rolled her eyes. "Next you'll be telling me that you're a one-woman army."

"A man with a knife can beat an army with guns given the right environment and situation." Jacket on, [Ren] then wore her trademark baseball cap. "The situation and place are ideal."

"Hold on. You're not going to just walk in on that factory shed _IN BROAD DAYLIGHT _and confront them?"

"No. I'll wait 'til night falls."

"Eh." Kokuto debated reasoning with [Ren]. Not like the younger girl ever listened.

"Go ahead." [Ren] almost seemed to goad her. "Tell me it's suicidal."

"-It's suicidal."

"Shut up."

_WHY DO YOU EVEN ASK ME THAT, THEN?_ The stress was just about to kill Haruko on the spot. _If you go get killed, I swear it's not my fault. I'll send that declaration in writing to HQ._

"Tell me what the opposition's like."

"What's to tell?" Kokuto swore her hair was turning grey every time she spoke to [Ren]. "Cousseran's security forces are all hired from different sources. Some are mercenaries, some ex-soldiers, even some ex-convicts. All of them proficient with firearms and-"

"Easy pickings."

_Are you some kind of overpowered videogame hacked character?_

"Stop that. That exasperated face makes you look even more stupid." [Ren] checked the weight of her jacket. A gentle twist of her wrist allowed the edge of a long japanese blade to slide out. "If they were actually capable soldiers, they would be generals by now. Not mercenaries."

_I don't know where your logic comes from, but I don't think that's quite right._"You're absolutely certain you can handle this?"

Another twist, and the blade hid itself once more. "Easily."

[Ren] turned, about to walk out.

"[Ren]? Before you go."

She turned to see Haruko toss a tied object, one she caught easily in her hand.

"Compliments of the Johohonbu."

[Ren] frowned, looking at the tiny earpiece and microphone. The little mike was designed like a ribbon, making it appear like a fashion accessory rather than a device. "And what this is?"

"I made a request for an auto-translator. It's basically a miniaturized version of the type used on the IS. This way your speech is immediately translated to anyone with an IS or wearing a similar translator."

"And why would I need that?" [Ren] suddenly fixed her gaze on Kokuto, making the latter cringe. "Ah, I get it. You were too scared to try speaking to Cousseran again."

_You bet I don't want to have a target painted on my head while you sneak around causing havoc! _Haruko was livid, trembling with equal amounts dread and rage. "Do what you want!"

"I will. Thanks for the gift."

[Ren] put the earpiece in one ear. She then bound the ribbon like microphone around her throat, marvelling at how light it was. As the door closed, Haruko swore that [Ren] was giggling. A terrible, bone-chilling little laugh.

* * *

><p>In spite of the summer weather, the old factory felt cold. The men within wore grim looks, hinting at the violence they could unleash if asked. A day's rest was all they needed, not one of them was weary any longer from the long flight across the world.<p>

The men silently checked their weaponry-all imported, as Japan restricted the import of firearms. Each weapon was chosen more for their appearance rather than their utility. The mission, if done right, would involve not a shot fired.

Cousseran smiled as he reviewed the floor plans on his notepad. The tiny digital assistant projected a skeleton image of IS Academy into the dark, dank air for the assembled team of men to see. The information was, to Roland's knowledge, accurate. He'd already gone through the plan repeatedly, drilled it into the silent heads of his 24 men. Speed, shock and awe were his allies in this operation.

Roland was no idiot. If any of the teachers or students managed to get hold of an IS, his men were done for. This plan all hinged on getting to Charlotte Dunois first, and basically getting her to come with them willingly.

_She would never refuse,_ he smiled. The plot was audacious, but would work. In the period of time he waited for his men to fly in, three separate times he'd verified which dorm room his target would be. She was alone, as the revelation of her true gender caused her to be moved to a room separate to Orimura Ichika. In a few days, she would be paired with another roommate-a complication Roland did not want or need. _Then, the time is now._

"Have you all reviewed the plan?"

"This is a lot of firepower for one little girl, sir." The stone-chiselled face of the team's leader spoke in the thick, blunt accent of the germans.

The scoffs and laughter from the others were clear and crisp.

"Erich, always a joker." Roland did not seem offended by the laughter in the least. "Don't forget that IS Academy has a large concentration of pilots for the IS system. The teachers are highly trained and proficient in IS combat tactics."

"IS combat tactics." The harsh voice of another, punctuated by a Russian accent. "Not close quarters urban combat."

"Correct, Mischa." Cousseran then regarded the russian security man. "We move into their weak spot. If we catch them with their panties down, be in there and out, there should be no problems."

"Any more questions?"

"Ayuh." The speaker had a slow country american accent, made all the more striking for his unkempt beard and Harley-Davidson tattoos. Clearly much older than the rest of the team, he had a self-satisfied smirk across his large face. "Can we take a couple of the other girls home?"

Laughter erupted.

A middle-eastern looking man then spoke up louder than the rest. "Only if you have extra space in your gun case, Bubba my friend!" Even more laughter.

"Go frag yourself, Malaak. I'll cut her arms and legs off. I don't want them to struggle much when I take them to bed." The man nicknamed Bubba drew out a wicked-looking bowie knife, and casually scratched his chin with it. "Damn this day and age. Women don't know their place anymore!"

The other team members nodded.

"One of the times I actually agree with our stateside friend," said another with a british cockney accent. "Reason for my bloody divorce, it was."

"Screw divorce, Neville!" A spanish man in the far end, youngest of the group. "It's everywhere. Everything. All of a sudden we men don't get no respect anymore. I say: Screw the IS. Screw the Academy. Let's just take whatever we want in that place and go!"

"Bubba. Malaak. Fernando. No." Cousseran shook his head. "If we take anyone other than our target, every nation in the world will hunt us down all the way back to France. "

"Yes sir," chastised, Malaak apologised profusely. "We were just speaking our mind."

Bubba simply crossed his arms and spat.

"Yah. I get it. I get it." Fernando sat down in the back. He made a small sneezing noise, then remained silent.

The team was silent. Not in shock, but the truth that they were all thinking this same thought. They were old-school men, who prided themselves on being men in professions of violence. In olden times, they would be feared, valued, respected. In times even older than that, they could live like kings.

It was the Infinite Stratos exoskeleton, and only the existence of it, that made them a dying breed. Ever since the introduction of the women-only IS, their status had been reduced. A young woman in an armoured suit could do what took whole armies to accomplish. There simply was little need for male brute force and muscle.

None of them took this well.

Certainly, IS pilots were highly trained and physically adept. But without the IS itself, most of the pilots couldn't hold a candle to Roland's mercenaries in sheer strength and combat proficiency. All that strength, prowess, and firepower was solely due to the IS technology.

Men still made up the bulk of armies, but it was the women who led, and fought. All other things being fair, the men were still better than women in combat. If not for the existence of IS.

The mission was all business, but the act of invading such a stronghold was personal.

"We stick with our plan. This is far too risky an operation for us to take it casually like Bosnia and Somalia." Cousseran fixed a glare at his men. "At the very least, take pride in knowing: you invaded IS Academy and left scot-free. That should something worth bragging about."

"It'll do for now," Neville the english shrugged.

"Good." Roland folded his laptop closed. "Are we ready to move?"

All twenty-three men nodded in unison.

_Wait._ Cousseran frowned. _Twenty-three?_

"Where'd Fernando go off to?"

* * *

><p>[Ren] quietly shut the lid on the large oil drum. In almost every group, there would be a straggler. One so far from the main team that he was easily dealt with without the rest of that group being alerted. Usually less disciplined and alert than the rest. The hot-headed spanish man had been her first target, and [Ren] had no trouble knocking him unconscious and dragging the body away.<p>

A voice from inside the building seemed to call the missing man's name. [Ren] smiled. They were at least more alert than most opponents she had faced. A challenge, for once.

Doing the math in her head, [Ren] figured he would have to cut the numbers down a bit before confronting them openly. IF she whittled them down to six, there would be no trouble.

Melting away from the drum, she snuck back inside. A girl with a slim body had no trouble moving through gaps that grown men would not imagine passing. There was a mild tinkle of metal on metal as the jacket brushed against the edges of the wall, but [Ren] was unconcerned. The noise of all the security men stomping about easily masked the sounds of her passing.

Though it would have been easier had she not been wearing he jacket, her chosen clothing had more merits than faults. One of them being the main reason she wore jackets.

Lots of comfortable places to carry blades in.

* * *

><p>Their guns were drawn, fully-customized assault rifles and submachine guns in hand.<p>

Pistol in hand, Cousseran stood in the centre of a wall made up of his best men. Fernando's gear and weapons were untouched where he sat down, but the outspoken spaniard was nowhere to be found.

_It couldn't be that woman, could it?_ Roland grit his teeth in denial. And yet his spine tensed, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end in white-hot fear. Yet it could not be the police-Japanese cops were ridiculously unarmed and sticklers for procedure. There was no way the local or even national police could simply creep up on them unnoticed. _Still, it can't possibly be._

For three agonizing minutes, the only movement and sound was of the troops warily looking for targets.

"Maybe it was nothing?" Mischa was the first to speak.

"Maybe Fernando's just being quiet?" Malaak responded.

"Really. Fernando and quiet?" Bubba responded. "Heads on a swivel."

_-CLINK_

Every weapon swivelled to aim at the sound, but did not fire.

* * *

><p>"Hmmm." [Ren] whispered to herself. The security men were more disciplined than she had initially thought. She was gambling on the troops firing at the metal screw she'd thrown to buy her time to attack, but it was bait they did not fall for.<p>

Still, it was entirely within line of her expectations.

Slowly, she slid between the rust-darkened walls and cabinets littering the building. She could not make any overt move just yet, as the sheer firepower at this point would stop her. Had they been unarmed, [Ren] would have been confident in taking them all on at once.

The security men were open, direct combatants, much like Samurai. Highly trained, exceptionally gifted, and utterly incapable of adapting to the changing battlefield when their rules of engagement fail.

_"I should turn up the pressure, then."_

* * *

><p>Haruko had been silent since [Ren] left the apartment. At first it was due to the cold terror of the girl's laugh. Now, it was due to deep thought. Despite the sarcastic banter between them, she had grown attached to the abrasive [Ren].<p>

_Concerned?_ Inwardly, she scoffed at the thought. _For such an unlikable girl?_

It was a lie, as she knew.

Her true mission aside from supporting [Ren] in her duties, was more subtle. Though she approached it with all the guile of an ingénue, Haruko was far from the quirky innocent facade she put up. Despite the questions, she knew quite well what happened to her predecessor-a man who didn't know when to shut up.

She was both analyst and observer. Not only of computer data, but of people she worked with. It was far from a talent, but enough for her to subtly try to deduce the inner workings of other peoples' minds. Most people were easy; the harder they tried to hide their true selves, the more it stood out. Men were a lot easier to read than women in this respect. Those who had worked in an intelligence agency were more practiced at it.

[Ren], though, Haruko found quite difficult. On the one hand the girl presented herself as a complete sociopath. But on the other hand, there was much more hidden. As if the surface personality were just snakeskin, shed for the serpent's survival and benefit. Haruko still did not know [Ren] as well as she thought, figuring she would slowly peel away the layers of that blunt personality.

After Kokuto found out [Ren]'s true name, she became ever more convinced the sociopathic side was just a horribly well-preserved act.

_In a way, this supports her. More than she'll know._

Her phone rang. With casual efficiency that she would never show her current partner, Haruko answered the phone in a voice as cold as the one she'd projected to Roland Cousseran not a few days back.

"It's Kokuto. She's taken action, sir."

The whispered, garbled voice on the line was a scrambled and inhuman mix. Kokuto knew that no one on the other end truly spoke-the synthesized voice was the result of a typed response to her reports. A speech machine basically read the sent message with emotionless precision. By this, her bosses would face little risk in being identified by their voices.

"Yes sir. I disagree with the method, but not the principle."

More electronic speech. It was hard to discern what her superiors were thinking, as the machine voice had only a flat monotone. Without the subtle pauses and emotional cues of true human conversation, Kokuto could only guess at the plans Johohonbu HQ were working through.

"-clean up afterwards? No sir, it's not a problem."

Taking a breath, Haruko listened to the spiel. In her mind, she wanted to picture her bosses' face, but could not. Never once in her career had she met the superior who now wrote her orders.

A blink, at the oddest question she'd been asked. "I didn't make an order for five morphine styrettes, no sir."

Silence for a time. Then one last firm command.

"I understand, sir." In truth, she didn't.

Acknowledgement, and the line went dead.

Putting down her phone, Haruko knocked back in the chair. Twilight was now approaching, and knowing [Ren], she figured the girl was either starting her game with the security men or already in full swing.

The chair fell back on the floor with a thud, Haruko with it. But she did not complain or whine, unlike how she would if [Ren] were around.

Staring up at the ceiling. Thinking about her life, her orders, and working with a most strange, frightening, and yet twistedly admirable young girl. Kokuto decided to just lie there and sleep.

_I probably should have been a teacher. Normal teenage kids don't go around throwing knives and swords at people._

* * *

><p>"Over there." Neville whispered harshly as he pointed his rifle toward the source. For the briefest of moments, he would have sworn he'd heard the tittering whisper of a young girl.<p>

"Don't spread too far," Roland warned. "They might be trying to split us up or spring a trap."

The Englishman nodded, and three others from the group joined him in a boxed-in formation. Each man held their weapon at a different angle, Neville in front, one man at each side, and the fourth man behind covering their back.

The main group held their ground, a porcupine with spikes raised against all attack. Caution turned the air heavy with breath. All eyes were on Neville's party as it drew closer to the corner.

In one swift movement, the team of four rounded the corner.

"Nothing, blast it." The Englishman's voice was terse with built-up stress. There was relief in the other mens' voices, but no joy.

"Nev, this is ree-dock-you-lous." One team member in an exaggerated accent. "We're just paranoid, and Fernando's probably taking a poop somewhere."

Neville did not respond, as his nerves were still on edge.

His three teammates were now visibly relaxing, as the beep of his radio earpiece called his attention.

"Neville here." Turning away from his three teammates, Neville made sure his gun was always pointed in the same direction of his sight. "No sign of anything."

"Hyuu huu huu huu huu~~"

"Stop being a retarded dolt." Angrily, the Englishman turned to confront his one remaining teammate. "What if-"

One.

The chills along Neville's back worsened, as he noticed the remaining man giggling uncontrollably. On the other man's face was the biggest, stupidest drooling grin ever seen. The blubbering smile could only mutter one word.

"Heh. Heheh. Rhee-dhock-you-loous."

Punctuated by the dull **THUD **of a straight body hitting the floor.

"Morphine styrette." Neville managed to blurt out as he saw the small needlepoint sticking out of the man's neck. He'd seen American Special Forces use the things-normally reserved as fast-acting tranquilizers for heavily injured troops, the styrettes were a favourite of those who needed to knock out a victim quickly and quietly without having to resort to outright violence.

They were also drugs, highly restricted items that no japanese citizen or even the police force would have access to. It was strictly military or intelligence services use.

AT the very least, the man in front of him would be out for four hours. Of the two others he could see no trace.

"Mister Cousseran, we have a problem." Neville brought his rifle up from the hip to his face, ensuring everything he looked at was through the sights of his weapon. "Cousseran?"

He then stopped once more, as he realised there was no static in his headset. As if his radio was dead. Looking down, the first thing he saw was the connecting wire to his radio-Cleanly cut by a blade.

The next thing he saw was his rifle's ammo magazine was missing.

Before Neville's brain could absorb all that was happening, he felt a solid blow to his stomach-forcing him to lose any breath he could use to scream. Then his nose was broken. And after that, his jaw. He couldn't see his attacker, a small form too fast for him to catch up to. The close quarters were in the attacker's favour, as it was less of strength and more the angles which gave the blows their devastating effect.

As his body was peppered by rapid-fire pain, Neville's brain had its own funny thought. _Why didn't they use the morphine? It'd make this experience a tad more pleasant-_

Everything went black long before the englishman's arm was snapped at the elbow.

* * *

><p>"What the hell is taking him so long?"<p>

Cousseran was already wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. There was no gunfire, no sounds of scuffle. And yet Neville and his team rounded the corner ahead and didn't come back.

"You don't think it could be an IS, could it?" Mischa offered, almost meekly.

The IS Exoframe was indeed capable of limited stealth.

"The factory is too small," replied Erich. "No way something like an IS could move around and not make noise."

"Okay." Bubba grunted. "So what the hell do we do now?"

A sudden clatter of plastic and electronics on the floor grabbed their attention. Guns pointed at the source.

On the floor was Neville's radio, impaled by a small pocket-knife.

Erich, his chiselled face looking more gaunt as he looked at the radio-sans Neville and the other three. "Spread out."

"Are you insane?" Cousseran moved to veto his second in command. "We still have an operation to fulfil."

"Whoever it is has no plans of letting us go."

* * *

><p>[Ren] finally finished chaining up the three thoroughly stoned on morphine security troops, all of them stupidly happy in their sleep. They were the weakest links, not important outside of the numbers they possessed. Of the group, [Ren] needed only focus on the intelligent, dangerous ones.<p>

Such as the bloodied and broken brit all over the floor. [Ren] could not risk the man recovering anytime soon, and fracturing his limbs was the fastest way to do so. Neville was still breathing, if shallowly. Both his elbows and wrists were broken, knees shattered. One shinbone was jutting out of his pants leg. It was a sight that would make most other girls [Ren]'s age go sick with shock.

She thought no more of him, making a mental note that such force was sufficient to shatter a fully-grown man without killing him.

[Ren] then frowned at her situation. She'd already used four of the five styrettes. It was the fastest and quietest method of eliminating the spanish man and the three goons. The original plan was to eliminate the security contingent and stick a styrette into Cousseran. Unconscious, he would have been easy to deliver to HQ if they wanted.

Now, however, the Dunois security team was changing their tactics. They were breaking up into smaller teams-eight two-man teams, and another pair guarding Cousseran himself. [Ren] had to move up her plan a lot faster to keep her lead over the men.

It would have been easier to kill them, but [Ren] loved the challenge.

* * *

><p>"Jesus, it's Neville."<p>

The american dropped to one knee, inspecting his fallen comrade. There was a shallow but regular breathing that told him Neville was still alive. If barely.

"What the hell did this to him?"

"Maybe it _is _an IS." On the radio, Mischa sounded a little more agitated than earlier. "Maybe someone here with a partly-deployed one?"

"It don't make sense. If whoever it is has an IS, they'd have just blown this whole place sky-high." Scratching one beefy arm as he gently pulled Neville off the floor, Bubba and his teammate placed the englishman in a sitting position. "But at least we know they ain't trying to kill us."

"How are you sure?" Cousseran demanded on another link.

"Oh, I'm pretty darn sure." Three utterly stoned men chained together hung from a rafter above. Bubba just couldn't believe it-they were alive and unconscious, and probably having crazy dreams from the look on their faces. But alive. "Why, I don't know."

Leading the way, Bubba motioned for his partner to follow. The man responded with a concerned "urgh", which Bubba did not think much of.

"You guys are real chickens." The american thought aloud. He hadn't taken more than two steps when he saw another figure appear ahead. "Who's there?"

It was a girl who made no threatening moves, dressed in civilian garb and almost casually standing there in wait as Bubba approached for a better look. Her smile was ice cold as she raised her right arm for him to see. Clear as day, the red tattoo rode bare on her skin as she rolled one sleeve up.

"What did you find?" Cousseran's voice through the radio was growing more distraught each second.

"Some girl with a tattoo on her arm." Bubba reported. Japanese, from his best guess. And quite pretty, the type Bubba would love to see in a few years grown up. Then his more sensible mind prevailed, but he still couldn't resolve the damage done to Neville and this little spirit of a girl. But the eyes-something about those eyes were frighteningly cold. "Who the hell are you, missy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" [Ren] replied.

"I ain't got time for fun and games, little missy." Bubba was starting to feel his trigger finger itch as he cautiously approached her. "If you're the one that did that to Neville-"

"Who else do you think did it?"

"Like hell. Where's your IS?"

[Ren] shrugged. "Don't have one."

"Like I said: _LIKE HELL. _No way a person can mess up a body that bad without using an exoskeleton. Sure as hell not a little girl like you!" Casting a sideways glance, Bubba realized the man behind him was lying on the floor. Looking back at the girl's cold smile, Bubba started to grow angry-a defence mechanism, as he had been trained to replace fear with anger in combat. "Where's your partner?"

"Just me. No one else."

"**LIKE HELL!**" Bubba's voice echoed, drawing everyone's attention. Livid with rage, Bubba made the mistake of grabbing the girl's arm.

There was a flash of movement as the arm slipped from his grasp. Bubba's sentence became a gurgle as his voice box was hit by a tiny needle. Coughing, the big american's eyes almost popped out as he realized a morphine styrette was stuck in his neck.

[Ren] smirked. "You're not much of a threat, anyway."

"Where'd you hiiii-" **THUD.**

There wasn't much time as [Ren] bent down, reaching for the grenades the american security man wore on his vest. All of them were cylindrical-smoke, flashbang, tear gas grenades. One canister grenade in particular labelled 'WP', drew a wicked smile from her as she pocketed it. As well as the large bowie knife strapped to Bubba's belt.

[Ren] then pulled the pin on two of the other grenades, and shoved them under Bubba's body. It would be a nasty surprise to whomever lifted their comrade to look-and since she hadn't tried the trick on the englishman, they would never see it coming.

Quickly, she slipped back into the shadows. It was always constant in her thoughts, the logic of strategy versus the thrill of tactics. Some days she played completely safe and pragmatic in her approach. Other days it was based purely spur of the moment excitement.

To be as unpredictable as possible, that was her strength.

To be unpredictable, that was a woman's divine right.

Unlike the security men and their textbook discipline and tactics.

_"Too predictable."_

* * *

><p>Hearing Bubba's angered roar, Malaak and his teammate were first on the scene. Not long after, other members of the security squad arrived, observing the grisly but still breathing form of the englishman and the oddly uninjured form of the american lying face down on the floor like a wood plank.<p>

"There's more than one." One of the men wiped the cold sweat from his brow. "Definitely more than one."

"Then we might as well cut out losses and leave." Malaak suggested. "This place is a death-trap."

"But nobody's been killed yet."

"You _REALLY _want to stay and prove it?" Malaak shot back, then allowed himself to relax before reporting to the main group. "Mister Cousseran, I've found our friend Bubba on the floor. To use a Hollywood phrase: I say we nuke the site from orbit."

"Leave the body." Erich's command caused the other men to pause. "Change of plans, stick together and cover all angles-"

"Idiots. IDIOTS." Roland countermanded through the radio. "Stay where you are, we'll join up and take the wounded. Afterwards, we'll just torch the place with our WP grenades."

"Roger." Malaak never really liked the american, with his arrogance and odious hygiene problems. And loud voice. So when nobody was looking, he kicked the body.

Two familiar cylindrical objects rolled out. Malaak recognized the blue stripe of a stun grenade next to the yellow of a smoke grenade.

Immediately, he dove to throw the grenades away, but-

**BAKOOOM**

* * *

><p>"What the hell was THAT?" was Roland's unprofessional exclamation. He was flanked by Erich and Mischa when the shock hit them, knocking themselves to the floor with a deafening echo.<p>

"Using our own plan against us." Erich responded before losing sight of his boss in the smoke. That smoke thickened greatly, like a Hollywood fog obscuring all from view. In the dim corridors of the building it spread quickly, and most of the men started panicking at the obstruction of their sight.

The explosion was in the general direction of where Bubba and Neville had been, and Malaak not a second earlier. Dust kicked up, and everyone in the building was disoriented from the loud explosion and flowing smoke curling all over the area. It was not thick enough to choke, but vision was greatly impaired overall.

The old factory's girders resonated from the stun grenade's explosion, tripling its effect in an enclosed space. The smoke that followed worsened the view-and correctly the german surmised more than one smoke grenade had gone off indoors.

The first sign of trouble was the sudden cut of gunfire, and the sudden yelps of surprise all around.

The group knew that directly assaulting an Academy full of trained IS pilots was suicidal, so they brought all sorts of special grenades to both ward off attack and avoid being chased. The stun grenades had been chosen for their ability to blind and wreak havoc on an IS sensors, while the smoke was both to cover their trail and raise a shield-lasers would lose some of their power firing through opaque smoke, and other IS-technology weaponry would be difficult to aim.

Now, those very same tactics were applied against them,

There were a few confused screams and yelps of surprise. Gunfire also erupted in sporadic, random bursts.

"Stop shooting, you'll hit _US_!" Shaking his head, Erich was readying the submachine gun in his hands for combat when his kneecaps broke backwards.

The gun was out of his hand and even before he could take breath to scream he felt a solid elbow into his stomach. Vaguely he wondered if this was the same experience Neville went through not much earlier. His back hit the floor, but the right arm was gripped within a small but firm hand.

Erich then remembered Bubba mentioning a girl, and here she was. Her lithe left hand was like a vise over his right wrist, applying ever-growing pressure to that joint. The pain lanced through his arm as pressure was applied to a soft joint in the wrist. As he fought it off, he marvelled at the girl's ability, as she appeared to lack to bulk and muscle but made up for it in speed and technique.

Erich swung his left fist at her, but was rewarded with another lance of pain-a sharp stabbing edge punctured his arm in response. The girl's right hand moved like a flash, not using much strength as she allowed Erich's punching motion to provide the force needed to stab that same arm.

A grimace, as the german security man fought hard not to cry out in his pride.

"You're the first one I've had to draw a blade on today." The young girl's voice made the cold words sound all the more dissonant. "Congratulations."

Still defiant, Erich tried to move in some way to fight off this slip of a girl that had him bowed and humiliated. Yet it was pointless-she held his right arm in a death grip, his left arm had been stabbed in a way that he could not move it, and broken knees kept him from even kicking away.

His eyes then moved from the girl's soft face and snakelike eyes to the mark on her knife arm-the one stabbing his left. Clear on the arm was [Ren]'s red tattoo.

Then, and only then did Erich recognize what he was up against.

"I've seen that before." The unbelievably small, terrified voice came out of german giant Erich's mouth. The huge hulk of a man was pale, and not from any blood loss he was suffering from the bleeding arm. "That mark. A red tattoo with six lines, I've seen it before."

"Good boy." [Ren]'s eyes continued to bore down into him. "Do you know what this symbol means? Who you're dealing with?"

Erich nodded frantically. All trace of his efficient chiselled exterior was now but rubble as he cowered under the blade of one teenage girl.

"Good boy. You know what happens next, right?"

Erich the giant finally _whimpered_. "-we're all going to _die_!"

"Wrong."

[Ren] slammed a palm into Erich's face, instantly knocking the man unconscious. She decided to leave the knife stuck in the man's arm, as he would risk bleeding to death otherwise from the way she punctured a major artery.

[Ren] was not smiling as she stood, mood changed from gleeful to sullen. Her voice was hollow as she made one last statement to the fallen man.

"I'm not my father. I do things differently."

The other Dunois Security troops were in utter disarray. Those that could still fight, did so ineffectually. Those that could not were either wallowing miserably in pain or blissfully unconscious.

A few throwing knives slipped from her pocket into her hand as [Ren] prepared to take the remaining men head-on.

_"Only the dangerous ones are left. And Cousseran."_

* * *

><p>Mischa was the next to go down, almost in front of Roland's eyes as the smoke crawled in and out of view.<p>

One second, the russian was calling out for Erich. Then as if sucked by some monstrous worm beneath, the russian suddenly dropped from view screaming-before just as suddenly stopping in silence. Roland did not see the person as a whole, but there was a small female figure that flits from wisp to wisp of smoke.

_Is that...?_

A familiar whizz rang past his ear, landing painfully in the arm of another man behind him. Three more singing blades cut the smoke and air, and that man was silenced.

_It's __HER!_ Cousseran leaped behind and cowered underneath a table as he heard the sudden rain of blades cutting through cloth and limb. How the girl could find her targets in this smoke-designed to fool even IS sensors and infrared goggles-escaped Cousseran's terrified mind. Even with that, there was a sound more frightening than the gunfire and screams of fully-armed men going down in pain. _How many knives does that witch have?_

Every now and then was a girlish giggle of sheer joy.

_She's not human, _he surmised. There was only one thing he'd ever seen in life that moved with the same sultry grace, snapping at them with lightning speed and efficiency at the very hint of weakness.

Like a venomous snake.

_Get a hold of yourself!_ Cousseran screamed inside, but was frozen under the safety of the table. More screams and gunfire, but each one was growing less and less, replaced with the eerie silence and disappearing smoke. _It's just one woman! How dangerous could she possibly be?_

But his knees would not move, his legs frozen in fear.

A clatter of a submachine gun falling was the last element of sound heard before deathly silence enveloped the building. The smoke was still thick, but now degrading as a result of the action before. Still, Cousseran did not move.

Not until almost an hour passed, smoke completely gone, did the frenchman finally garner the courage to peek out from under his hiding place. Putting his handgun out first, Cousseran slowly emerged from the table. The pistol, a high-powered magnum semiautomatic, was chosen by him for its looks rather than usage. He'd never fired it, and now dreaded the need to.

All around him were scattered bloodied and bruised bodies, breathing but semi-conscious if not unconscious. From the look of them, most were either beaten into it or succumbed to the injuries slowly bleeding their life out. Many of them had knives of all shapes and sizes stuck into them-Roland saw both of Mischa's legs impaled to the ground by old-styled pike bayonets, which earned his revulsion.

_Why didn't she just kill them? _Cousseran realised that with half that much effort, his team would have been eliminated sooner, more cleanly. Leaving the troops alive, and going through a lot of trouble to beat them into stupidity or mangle them with knives was impractical.

He shuddered, realizing that their attackers were probably enjoying themselves. All twenty-four of his best men, taken out within an hour.

Roland spun his gun to fire at a shadow standing next to him.

_**SCH-TCHUNK.**_

A thick, diamond-shaped blade wedged itself into the pistol's slide mechanism, jamming it. Roland panicked that moment, allowing his attacker ample time to act first.

He screamed like a child as he felt his legs give way from the force of a sweeping kick. Then Roland Cousseran, Operations Manager of Dunois Armaments and Security, landed painfully on his rump. Even after landing, the man did not stop screaming until he saw himself reflected in the blade of a rather large knife.

"Shut up, Cousseran. I haven't broken anything yet."

He stopped, then regained enough presence of mind to focus on his attacker, the teenage girl he'd heard about from Bubba. For a moment, he wondered what was going on-the girl's voice was being auto translated but she was not wearing an IS.

She was not the woman Roland had encountered a few days before.

"Who are you?" Cousseran attempted to exert his authority, but blubbered, backing away clumsily on hands and knees in a sitting position as the girl approached him. In her hands were a series of clawlike blades. Calling up what little courage he had: "You can't arrest me! I'm a foreign national!"

"Arrest?" [Ren] let out the most bone-chilling laugh Cousseran had heard in his lifetime. "Do I look like the police to you?"

Another empty threat: "I have diplomatic immunity!"

"Do I look like I care?" The knives in her hand escaped from sight.

Roland grew frantic. "You can't do this to me! Do you know who you're dealing with? DO YOU-"

"Shut up."

A whizzing sound and thunk of a large bowie knife between his legs made Roland yelp and frantically crawl as far away from the blade as possible.

"Let's talk about Charlotte Dunois, shall we?"

"What?" Roland gasped.

**THUNK.**

Squealing, Cousseran backed away from it, a punjabi dagger of unknown make. Had he not been terrified out of his mind, he would have marvelled at how this girl acquired it.

"Why did you and your family put her up to this?" [Ren] toyed with another weapon, a filipino butterfly knife. "Wasn't it enough for you to turn her into your personal no-wages IS test pilot?"

Sputtering, Roland tried defiance. "I deny whatever you claim!"

"Let's try this again, shall we?" [Ren] flicked a wrist and the knife was gone. She then pulled out the WP grenade she'd acquired earlier. Roland read the letters WP on the canister and froze.

The WP or White phosphorus grenade was an incendiary weapon, producing a thick cloud of hot smoke that clouded infrared sensors and caused serious burns. The hot phosphorus smoke would also eat up breathable oxygen in a flash as well as irritate lungs-even though the IS exoskeleton was fully protected against most environmental hazards, the pilot still needed to breathe. The Dunois security men only had a couple of them as a last resort, to be used only when all else failed in their escape attempt.

In the cramped quarters of the old factory it would not only cover the area in minutes faster than the normal smoke grenades they'd carried, but instantly set clothing and ammunition on fire. White phosphorus burns were not pretty-even when doused with water something set aflame would still burn. And WP tended to stick to human skin and clothing while burning.

"Wh-what are you going to do with that?"

The cold, chilling giggle made him regret asking as she pulled the pin on the grenade. Calmly, still holding the safety on the weapon she set it down on the floor.

"AAAAAAAARRGH!" Cousseran dove for the weapon the second [Ren] released her grip on it. Both hands desperately closed around it, just in time. Had he been a second too late, the lever would have come off, igniting the potentially lethal weapon.

**THUNK. **The butterfly knife buried itself about a finger-length away from his hand. In shock, he pulled away from the blade, still maintaining a death grip on the grenade. He backed into a wall, with no other way out.

**THUNK. **Another knife pinned his left arm to the wall, but Roland kept his grip on the weapon. It barely missed flesh, instead puncturing his watch. The action essentially wedged the WP grenade in place.

"Why did you send Charlotte Dunois to this place?"

Cousseran could have just let go of the grenade. The WP would have ignited, taking him, the troops and the entire building along with this monster of a girl he was trapped with. Thing was, Roland did not want to die.

"Some members of the family-"

"Stop pretending, Messr. Cousseran." Despite her youthful looks, She was a regal monster, commanding with voice as she drew another knife from her jacket. The angular blade of a kukri knife looked hungry for blood as it twirled in her hands. "Dunois the company and Dunois the family are one and the same. You sent that girl here. Why?"

"We needed information on Orimura Ichika, that's all!" Roland gasped, feeling too trapped to keep to the official story. "Charlotte was supposed to masquerade as a boy and steal his data! That's all there is to it!"

**THUNK.**

"That's not the reason I was looking for."

"What do you mean? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Roland was now hanging on to sanity by a thin thread, the bent-edged kukri knife looking wicked as it stopped short of his left ankle.

"Charlotte is the illegitimate daughter of the head of Dunois Industries. That man, who is also the patriarch of the Dunois family, has no sons and no other children, is that correct?"

Cousseran did not understand the question.

"Sending her after Orimura was just a side benefit. Dunois Industries has plenty of other IS test pilots, and any one of them would have volunteered for this operation." [Ren] stood tall, a dark goddess presiding over the judgement of the fallen. "You chose Charlotte because she would be the least missed by the family. The real reason she was sent away was because the rest of the family did not want her to inherit the company."

"You knew..." Roland felt the earth sink underneath. The revelation had truth in it, even though he officially denied such a story. Indeed, that was why he was trying so hard to retrieve Charlotte-to ensure she would just return to France and disappear.

"It made sense. Though her birth was illegitimate, she is potentially a direct heir to the company's CEO. And although Dunois is a corporation and not a monarchy, it follows that family would be chosen." The eyes narrowed, and Roland thought for a moment they were glowing with evil intent. "No wonder she was so hated by you and the rest of the Dunois clan."

With that, she had a most cruel, knowing, and bitter smile.

"No wonder even her father refused to see her."

"Who would have love for a bastard child?" Roland's grip on the WP grenade was tighter than ever, knuckles white with the grip as he began to rage. "It's all that stupid woman's fault. She agreed to have that child aborted. That girl should have just died at birth!"

"Oh?" [Ren] focused her snakelike eyes on Cousseran. "Tell me, then. What should have happened?"

"Charlotte Dunois should never have been born!" Coussseran exploded, not caring anymore who listened to him. "That the bastard child even exists is a shame to the family! She is our ruin! Why? What is that girl to you? Why do you protect her? Why do you even care?"

"Care? _CARE _for Charlotte Dunois?"

[Ren] laughed at the suggestion. In rippling, fearsome cackles.

Roland could not believe it, but the fear in him grew even greater than before. IT was a maddened, horrifying laugh, one that a young girl should not physically be able to make. The girl laughed that unearthly, fiendish laugh for almost three minutes before she finally composed herself, a new, dreadful fire in her eyes.

"What makes you think I even LIKE Charlotte Dunois, Messr Cousseran?"

**THUNK. **A small penknife stabbed Roland's collar.

_Oh lord! _He now began to regret his words, as the girl started to approach him, knives in her hands.

"When you think of it logically, I should actually _**hate**_ her."

**THUNK. **A needle file pinned the other half of his watch, fixing the hand to the wall.

"Of those girls surrounding Ichika Orimura, Charlotte is the one who cherishes him the most, did you know?"

**THUNK. **Three letter openers pinned his other pants leg.

"That feminine sweetness. That childlike honesty. That motherly kindness. It honestly makes me sick to see a girl that angelically perfect."

**THUNK. **Tiny cross-shaped knives fixed the other arm to the wall.

"But knowing what your family did to her makes my blood boil. That you hate her so much just for being born. That you blame her for your mistakes."

**THUNK. **Between his right index and ring finger.

"What's wrong with being raised a normal girl? Why do we have to be tools for our families to use? Why do we have to be your scapegoats?"

**THUNK. **Just grazing his neck.

"Stop. I give up! I surrender!" Cousseran begged frantically. _Where does she hide all those damned knives?_

**THUNK. **A flat blade cut his belt at the waist, barely exposing skin.

"Is it because we're expendable? Because even in this society, men still use women and throw them away?" [Ren] sneered. "Because we're both just useless bastard children to our clans?"

**THUNK. **Half an inch near the same cut across his ear that a previous knife had made.

"That's why I can't bring myself to hate Charlotte Dunois. Even if by all rights I should." [Ren]'s eves came into focus. Cold, reptilian. Indeed like a snake, mesmerizing its prey. "I know how it feels to be made into a tool."

**THUNK. **Just an inch between his legs.

Cousseran had just wet his pants a third time when he noticed how close the hateful serpent-like eyes were staring into his.

"You should thank Ichika Orimura, you know? If not for him," the grin of a devil was on her face. As if by magic, a wicked-looking barber's razor appeared with a flick of [Ren]'s hand. "Charlotte could have turned out a monster like me."

Roland was trying to scream, but couldn't manage anything louder than a gurgle as eyes flew between the girl's stare and their reflection in the blade's edge.

"And I don't like having competition," [Ren] giggled.

Only then Cousseran did scream loudly, when [Ren] started her work with the razor.

* * *

><p><strong>July 30th<strong>

"Why do **I **have to clean up after your mess?"

Haruko was overwhelmed with all the paperwork requesting documentation of the incident. The apartment was cluttered with the forms, statements, and declarations, and she nearly threw a fit trying to sort them all out.

"You injured a couple dozen private security personnel. _HIGHLY TRAINED AND EXPERIENCED _security personnel. What do you have to say about that?"

A bored [Ren] kept staring out the window, chin on one arm.

"Nobody died."

"_That's not the point and you know it!_" Kokuto felt like smashing her head against the computer terminal, but stopped short when she realized how much it would take out of her salary. "You didn't have to go all-out on those people!"

"They shot first."

_Why do I have SO much trouble believing that? _"That's no excuse!"

"I could have easily killed them if I wanted to."

_Are you actually implying that killing two dozen foreign nationals on Japanese soil would make this situation __**BETTER**__? _Haruko was no longer a livid purple. She was practically going through all colours of the spectrum. She tried to say something, but all that came out of her mouth was a pained "Nggggghhh."

"You're stressing because you drink too much coffee."

_I'm stressing because I have to ensure you're not committing mass murder! _"Do you realize you've caused a member of the Dunois family irreparable damage!"

"Really?" [Ren] smirked her devilish smirk. "I didn't even scratch Roland Cousseran this time."

"_YOU SHAVED HIS HEAD BALD, MADE HIM SIT ON A LIVE GRENADE, AND NOW HE'S A QUIVERING WRECK!_" Haruko felt like screaming. Roland Cousseran was indeed uninjured except for his soiled pants and lacking both sanity and hair. Headquarters, the Foreign Ministry, and the Regional Police wanted a **really **good explanation for that.

"It's not as bad as you make it sound. I basically stopped them from invading IS Academy before they tried." [Ren] stretched her arms. "Everything else is just the minor details."

_I don't know what part of airlifting 25 injured men from here back to europe is minor! _"This is going to look very bad."

"For Dunois Industries, not us. But they'll deal with it. Even though they're under pressure to develop a 3rd-gen machine, too many people rely on the Rafale Revive series IS. Dunois Industry won't fall just yet."

"At risk of hearing something that will freak me out," Haruko then dared to ask: "Was there anything or anyone you DIDN'T try to stick your knives into?"

"You're right. I should have turned that loud ugly american into a pincushion."

"**ARRGH!**" Haruko pounded her fists on the computer. Taking a breath, she reached for her newest can of Blue Mountain blend.

"Isn't that your seventh can of coffee today?"

"Shut up! I need it to keep from going crazy with you!" A pop of the can, and Haruko took the drink in long, persistent gulps.

"Seriously, it's coffee, not beer." [Ren] then flopped on the bed, not caring of what else her partner might or might not say.

_~sigh~ _In silence, Haruko just stared at [Ren] lying there, and the red tattoo on the girl's arm.

In the late 20th century there were stories of a clan of shinobi that wore that mark. Stories that were whispered but never quite proven, about ninja and the mythology surrounding them. Silent as a shadow, yet furious as a storm. Kokuto has heard of them, of these so-called ninja who wore crimson-red marks. Even the Johohonbu had stories of them, one of which was that their greatest pupil was a man with the eyes of a snake. The stories were no more than tall tales and urban legends persisting in this modern age of the IS.

_But still, the stories persist._

There was no proof of the clan existing, only hearsay and rumour. Tall tales of heroism or infamy to tell to children at night. The great ninja clans disappeared long ago, before the age of technology. No one truly knew what happened to them, though many made claims they were ninja-often disproven as fakes and overconfident showmen. But if the clans still existed, where are they now?

Even now, she wondered if one of the stories she'd heard at the Johohonbu was true. That [Ren] was the illegitimate daughter of the clan's long-lost leader. Truth, lie, or just another tall tale?

Ironically? Those confusing, inconsistent myths were exactly what the ninja wanted people to believe.

"About Charlotte Dunois."

"-Hm?" Haruko was surprised by [Ren]'s sudden change of topic.

"You asked why I have nothing bad to say about her."

"So?" Can of coffee in hand, Haruko half-slid across the room on her chair, fully intent on hearing what her partner had to say next. "So? SO?"

[Ren] had a moment deep in thought before she answered.

"I don't like her."

Haruko almost dropped her coffee. "**EH?**"

"I don't like her," [Ren] repeated with finality. "But I don't hate her, either. That's all."

_Always so blunt!_

"It's for the best," came an oddly pensive tone from [Ren], barely audible. She looked outward once more, as if picturing something else in her mind.

_"Can Ichika fall in love with a monster?"_

"Wha?"

"Shut up."

* * *

><p><em>"Never saw no military solution,<em>  
><em>that didn't always end up as something worse."<em>  
><em>- Sting, "If I Ever Lose My Faith"<em>


	2. 2 Spider and Snake

**IS / Gaiden**

* * *

><p>The sound of rolling, curling wheels came to a stop as the sky tram eased into its port. Sliding doors opened to the sun's cleansing light bathing away the darkness. On a weekend, the quiet breeze and warmth of the day went ignored by the many as they went their daily ways. Only the one girl departed at the stop, slowly walking into the cityscape like a snake through grass.<p>

She fixed the cap on her head, further hiding her eyes from the light. As she did, she saw clouds in the distance, buoyed ever closer by the very breeze she was feeling.

Inner discomfort marred her features.

On she walked, ignored by the many as just another passer-by. The city fringe was muted in its colours, as if visualizing the change from the greys of concrete to the greener outskirts of the suburbs. The park she approached was more of the same, a quiet green of manicured lawn and stone and steel structures. Like white pins stuck into a green canvas the chairs and benches stood out, more an eyesore than a compliment to the landscape.

Alone on one bench sat another, much older girl. Her hair was the bluest of deep ocean waters, and flowed as such when she waved a small and ornate fan near her chest. Contentedly she waited, like a cat sunning herself in the warm day. Almost immediately she noticed the girl with the cap approach, and smiled at her.

"Won't you take a seat?"

The younger girl did not respond.

"Not even a hello, [Ren]-san?"

"I'll stand." [Ren] stuck her hands in her pockets, guarded.

The girl with the fan was lightly amused, knowing full well that she was playing with fire. The fan closed, but the ever-present smile remained unchanging.

"I take it you've heard the news?" Soft but scheming eyes twinkled. Hers was a smile that charmed men, but gave [Ren] no end of irritation.

[Ren] kept her silence, but looked away.

"You probably shouldn't have caused that mess with Dunois' security troupe a few weeks ago." Again the fan snapped closed, a cat's smile still evident on her face. "Seriously. Most of the heads of security in Japan, and even a few in other countries think you went overboard with the Cousseran affair. It's raised some concerns over your suitability for this role."

"Suitability." [Ren] forced a laugh that was devoid of all spirit.

"I heard some at Dunois Industries wanted to send a prototype 3rd-gen IS to take Charlotte-san back, but they let Cousseran act first. Hm." Tatenashi tapped the edge of the fan lightly on her full lips, in an almost enticing manner. "Care to tell me what happened?"

"Necessary roughness," was all [Ren] would say.

"What do you call 'Necessary'?" The cat's smile remained more a shield than the fan was.

"Whatever works. Whatever it takes."

"Hm." The catlike eyes narrowed.

"Watching over Orimura Ichika from the shadows is my duty." [Ren] did not look directly at the seated girl, instead eyeing the surroundings. No one else listened; they were alone in the park. "Not yours, Tatenashi Sarashiki."

"Oh, that will change from today onward."

[Ren]'s own eyes seemed to hiss, but she held her tongue.

"The Johohonbu have spoken with the Sarashiki family." Sarashiki began, pausing only to see [Ren]'s reaction. The lack of response was her cue to continue. "As I am already enrolled in IS Academy, I am to be responsible for protecting Orimura Ichika."

"The principal of IS Academy is playing favourites."

"Now, now. We act only at the behest of those in power." Tatenashi replied with a light voice but without her normal cheer. The cat was done playing with the snake. "Your family and mine have been doing this for a long time. Don't take life too seriously."

"You don't take life seriously enough." [Ren] replied back, with a little more ice in her voice than was normal. "And this has nothing to do with our families."

"Correct."

[Ren] crossed her arms. "What are you getting at?"

"Simple." The firm sound of a fan slammed shut accompanied Tatenashi's new tack. "Do you want Tatenashi-onee-chan to pass on your love letters to him?"

"Do that and I'll cut open your throat where you stand."

"Oh, but I'm seated." Sarashiki chuckled again.

"Fine. I'll cut you open _before_ you stand."

"Really, you." The cat's smile finally fell from Tatenashi's face. It was a dance of words, one with serious consequences. "What's a little joke between friends?"

"We're not friends."

Not at all like cat and mouse. It was between cobra and mongoose.

Tatenashi opened up her fan again, cooling herself against in the summer heat.

Or was it to hide her frustration?

The park remained empty, as both young women ceased moving. No words for that moment, as they kept guarded expressions.

It was a fight. Of wits and words.

"Since you're also in IS Academy as a student," [Ren] began the next round, but with more tension in her voice. "You don't have as much freedom to act behind the scenes."

"Oh, the Student Council President does have that freedom," Sarashiki's smile returned, but her eyes remained focused on [Ren]. "You, on the other hand? You have no access to the academy itself. Can you protect Orimura when you're on the outside?"

"There was that incident with the Golem attacking IS Academy." [Ren] snapped back, with a little more emotion than she wanted to reveal. "I didn't see you doing anything about that."

"Couldn't be helped. That was before my IS [Mysterious Lady] was completed." Tatenashi's casual shrug showed how light of a threat it was. "And the Golem wasn't something you could have handled, anyway."

"You don't know that."

Sarashiki's raised eyebrow said all. "Knives. Against a Golem."

[Ren] had no response.

"This brings me to three points." Tatenashi's smile wavered on the thin line between charm and threat as she held up her index finger. "First: Guarding Orimura from the shadows has not been very effective."

"I'm sure Mr Cousseran and his group would beg to differ."

"Second." Sarashiki raised a second finger. "I plan to make Orimura Ichika aware of me."

There was a flash of crimson across [Ren]'s face. "Like hell."

"Whatever works. Whatever it takes." Sarashiki threw [Ren]'s words back at her. And then in a tone both joking and serious: "It would be easier to protect someone if you're right beside him. Morning, noon, and night. _E-Spe-Cia-Lly_ at night."

[Ren]'s eyes promised cold death.

"Third." Sarashiki's voice lowered, as she went for the kill. "You won't be able to handle an IS in a head-on fight."

"I won't need to."

"You can't guarantee that."

"Silverio Gospel." [Ren] stated it with cold distaste. Dead silence followed, but Tatenashi could see the girl's lips lose colour and tighten.

"You can't protect him from everything." Wind toyed with Sarashiki's aquatic-blue hair, but her face had no smile or light mood to it. "It's time to move on."

"I'll decide whether or not to move on. Not you."

Tatenashi did not answer further, as she recognized the tactic. Whoever speaks first loses.

Unexpectedly, [Ren] quietly turned to walk away.

_You can only win by cheating, can't you?_ Tatenashi craned her head to follow and call out to the other girl. "Best of luck."

"Shut up." [Ren] snapped back as a viper would when struck. Her snakelike eyes coldly bored into Tatenashi's laughing ones.

"I meant no offense."

"Every word out of your mouth is offensive."

"I'm only trying to be friendly." Tatenashi made a genuine effort to approach the other girl, but it was pointless. "I honestly wish we could work together."

"No. We won't." [Ren]'s heart was covered in armour, like a snake's skin shed constantly to protect itself. Her cold voice remained level. "Deal with it."

As she watched [Ren] walk away, Tatenashi could only shake her head.

"Does being a snake mean you have to bathe in venom every living moment?"

* * *

><p>Warm sun and seas lapped at her legs as she sat unnoticed on the ocean's surface. Her long black hair was matted by seawater, and she brushed it aside before gazing into her binoculars. Seas were calm today, a mild undulating wave being all that rocked the small jet ski she was on. Watching the distant isle through twin lenses, she licked the sea spray from her lips. Blue-grey domes and towers mixed with the greenery covering its surface, with a long steel line connecting it to the mainland. Ghostly images flit in that distance, holograms that were integrated into the day-to-day life there. Separated by sky and sea, the island that housed the Infinite Stratos [IS] Academy was both isolated, and somewhat self-sufficient given its size.<p>

It was still summer, but one could feel a slight coldness in the breeze. The coming season was the woman's namesake, as she sat like a dead leaf on the water.

Autumn watched the distant island quietly, intently. From here, it looked like any other island off of mainland Japan. But any approach she would make closer than this would trigger suspicion. Innocent though it appeared, IS Academy was more than just a school. Only authorized individuals could enter the location. That meant students, teachers and the many support staff employed. Identities were checked and verified-even the slightest hint of intrusion would cause a reaction, and in recent months the security had been stepped up.

_There really isn't a direct way in, is there?_ She bit down on her lip as the binoculars panned from one end of the isle to the other. There had been a direct attack on the Academy a month and a half prior. A direct approach from the air was not going to work, so Autumn scouted for a sea route. Much to her dismay, there did not seem much promise in a maritime infiltration.

A frown as a new sight came to her attention. Coming straight at her was a white boat with blue stripes. It was a patrol boat of the Kaijo Hoan-cho, the Japanese Coast Guard.

She nonchalantly placed her binoculars on the water's surface and let it drop. By the time the patrol boat was close enough to hail her, Autumn looked no more suspicious than any other beach-goer. The boat was a full 15 meters in length, slowing to the slightest of crawls in order not to capsize Autumn's tiny jet ski. The patrol boat came to a stop, and out popped the head of a male Coast Guard officer. He seemed prepared to yell, but oddly stopped as he met Autumn's gaze.

"Is there a problem, officer?" There was a smirk on her face. Her body was covered only by the slightest of bikini swimsuits, an eye-catching red that called attention to her athletic yet ample curves. The male patrolman couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Uhm, no." The man was clearly trying hard not to let his jaw fall out of his face. "You're a bit far from the beach, ma'am."

"Oh." Autumn feigned innocence. "I didn't realize that."

"Well, uhm-" The man was about to say something else, when a burly female officer appeared next to him. Without warning, she grabbed the man's ear and twisted it violently. The man started howling in pain.

"_STOP THINKING WITH YOUR OTHER HEAD, NUMBSKULL!_" The tank of a woman bellowed in her colleague's ear. Autumn could actually see the captain's bars on the woman as the Coast Guard officer glared down at her with visible contempt. "This area of ocean is off-limits to outsiders. Turn your jet ski around and head back to the beach."

"Hey, I said I was sorry!" Autumn replied in her best mock-tourist tone.

"I'm not going to repeat myself. Get the hell out of here, bimbo!" Without letting go of her screaming colleague's ear, the female officer gruffly shooed Autumn away. "And don't let me catch you out here again!"

"I understand. Thanks!" Autumn smiled back, as fake as any respect she had for either men or the law.

* * *

><p><em>Oh you have <em>_**GOT **__to be kidding me._

Barely half-awake, Kokuto Haruko's cheek twitched as she saw her partner in the kitchen. Haruko was the only one who cooked-the only reason the latter would be there was due to her unhealthy obsession with knives. Of all shapes and sizes.

"[Ren], where the hell have you been?"

"Getting breakfast." [Ren] did not even look over her shoulder, and then held up a plastic grocery bag.

"_IT'S HALF-PAST NOON!_"

"Not my fault you sleep too long." [Ren] did not seem concerned at the outburst. "Oh, and I bumped into Tatenashi Sarashiki in the park."

"What?!" Haruko awkwardly gawked. "I told you to let **ME** handle the meetings."

"You were asleep. Stop stressing. Here, have some melon bread."

"Thanks," Kokuto reflexively replied, then glared oddly at the bread. Then turned that glare to [Ren]. "_DO YOU THINK I'M SOME SORT OF GAG ANIME CHARACTER?!_"

"Fine, you can have the bread later." [Ren] pretended not to notice the accusation, dropping the bread on the counter. "It was just a quick chat."

Haruko then turned pale. "Please tell me you didn't stab her!"

"No." [Ren] turned to open the fridge. "Not yet."

_-THAT'S NOT A REASSURANCE!_

"Stop grimacing, you'll only add to the wrinkles on your face."

Kokuto stammered, then mumbled. Then buried her face in her hands for ten seconds before forming a response. "**I** was supposed to talk with Tatenashi regarding these new orders!"

"So I did you a favour." The audible POP of a soda can was heard as [Ren] took a drink. "That blue-haired two-face would just harass you until you gave up or committed suicide."

_And how is that different from living with you?!_ "Wurgh." Kokuto expunged a made-up word that explained all her frustrations. "Is there ANY girl studying at IS Academy you don't want to kill?"

"I just didn't want to waste time on Tatenashi." [Ren] drank another gulp. "You make it sound like I'm a serial killer of some sort."

_YES YOU ARE!_ "All right. Other than you NOT killing Tatenashi, was there something she told you?"

"Nothing important." [Ren] continued to drink her soda, then stopped when she noticed Haruko's flat stare. "All right. She advised she would take Orimura Ichika."

"Take. Orimura. Ichika." Kokuto walked to the kitchen counter and took the melon bread. "I'm sure there's a Freudian slip in there somewhere."

"I know what I said." [Ren] seemed to gulp the soda down more quickly. "Tatenashi advised she would take over the bodyguard duties over Orimura."

_That's not what you said earlier._ Haruko decided not to say aloud as she opened up the packet, munching into sweet melon bread. "The Sarashiki are getting involved. I thought you said this was nothing important?"

[Ren] mused. "I said it might be important."

_That's not quite what you said earlier, either._ Haruko gobbled up the bread inelegantly, in frustration. "So, when do we start working with her?"

"We don't."

"We don't?" Melon bread suddenly caught in Haruko's throat. _I'm not going to like the answer to this, am I?_ "We're **NOT** going to coordinate with Sarashiki?"

"We don't need her." A metallic tap as [Ren] set down the soda can, stern gaze in her eyes. "We do things as per normal. Tatenashi may have things inside IS Academy wrapped up, but she doesn't have the Johohonbu's intelligence network."

_Somehow I think that was an attempt to praise me that didn't come out right at all._ Kokuto groaned. "I guess I should just be glad you weren't tempted to stab her when she said that."

"You're right." [Ren] looked thoughtful. "I probably should have killed her when I felt like it, after all."

_That's __**DEFINITELY **__not what you said earlier!_ Haruko winced. Her eyes followed [Ren] as the latter once again headed toward the door. "Where are you going this time?"

"To buy more knives."

_Oh. Of course. You always need more of those._ "You know, I've never personally met Tatenashi Sarashiki. But I can guess that she doesn't like you very much."

"I don't care what she thinks. I have a job to do."

The door slammed shut.

"Is it just a job to you?" Haruko took the last bite out of her melon bread. She would not see [Ren] again at least until nightfall.

* * *

><p>The sunset view from above the city did not touch her heart. Autumn shook the final traces of seawater from her black hair, looking out from the elevator as it rose to the condominium's penthouse suite. The sky and the view were the furthest from her thoughts as the lift stopped. The elevator door opened to a short hall, which she walked through. Only one person owned this entire floor, and only those allowed here could enter. The hall ended abruptly at a door, one with no visible knob or handle.<p>

Autumn waved a hand at the door, which parted easily. In she strode, to a home of dark and elegant luxury. None of this elegance meant anything to her, as she walked purposefully to the dining room. Pausing only to collect her thoughts, Autumn then knocked on the dining room door once before entering.

Sitting at the table was a woman, with blonde locks and a prominent beauty mark on her left cheek. A cup of coffee was in her hand, which she took polite sips from. Her smile was radiant, greeting Autumn as she entered.

_Squall._ Autumn's lips bent slightly in an almost bashful smile. Her leader, her boss. Her lover. No matter how many times Autumn saw her, she felt like a child whenever Squall smiled at her.

That smile turned into a frown when she saw who else was in the room.

_**M**__._ Autumn's eyes bored cold hatred at the young black-haired girl standing next to Squall. Ever since she joined the organization, **M** began to take more of Squall's time and attention. Attention that Autumn craved more of.

"How did the reconnaissance go?" Squall's voice snapped Autumn out of her quiet rage.

"Infiltrating by boat won't work. The Coast Guard are all over the place." Autumn replied, casting a sideways glance at **M**. "A scuba diver could probably swim and infiltrate at night."

"You'd be spotted once you reach land." **M** bluntly cut her off.

"Maybe." Although Autumn expected the response, she still cursed the younger woman in her mind. The way **M** reacted was like the confidence of those peerless elites Autumn hated, thinking that nobody could match their skill. "We only need one chance to get in."

"Waste of time." **M** looked away.

"How would you know?" Autumn's voice grew low with restrained anger.

"Autumn. There's a better opportunity for us to infiltrate IS Academy." Squall set down her empty cup and stood. Walking to Autumn, put a gentle hand to the black locks. Autumn in turn blinked, and beamed in adoration of her leader. Squall seemed to enjoy the look as she continued to speak. "Through the front door."

Autumn looked perplexed. "What?"

"IS Academy is celebrating its School Anniversary. It's one of the few times that outsiders are allowed in." Squall responded with a beguiling smile. "Civilians, military, and IS weapons developers can enter with few restrictions."

"Just walk straight into the Academy?" Autumn could not believe it would be that easy. "How?"

"You simply have to blend in with the other guests." There was a light air of confidence in Squall's response. Autumn took this to mean that the plan had already been decided upon. "We already have a cover story set up for you. All you need is to look the part of a civilian weapons contractor."

"She'll stand out." **M** interjected, once again earning Autumn's glare.

"Nonsense." There was that smile again on Squall's lips, which Autumn could not resist. A pearl-white hand, smooth as silk. That hand brushed Autumn's black hair aside. "I think you'll look lovely as a businesswoman. You can do this, can't you? Autumn?"

It was a new challenge, but Autumn was flattered that Squall put such faith in her. Silently and meekly, she nodded.

"Good girl. **M**, please explain the plan."

Autumn restrained the urge to spit at the younger girl as she approached. In **M**'s hands a hexagonal metal object opened suddenly, exposing metallic tentacles that writhed as if alive. A split-second later the tentacles retracted.

"This is called a Remover." The girl explained the device as if she was lecturing to someone hopelessly stupid. "It will shock the user and deactivate the IS itself. It's a simple job. Don't screw this up."

"Who do you think I am?" Autumn's low voice barely whispered a threat as she accepted the device.

"If you fail, you can't use the Remover again." **M** glared back at her, with an air of haughtiness. A look that accused Autumn of being far beneath her notice. "IS cores automatically build up a defence against being taken."

_Don't lecture me as if I'm some sort of idiot._ Autumn remained silent, biting her tongue in the process.

"Nearly all areas will be open to the public. Your best chance is to confront the target in his dormitory room. He'll be alone since he's male. You won't have to worry about witnesses then." Squall interrupted the two, as if reading Autumn's rage. The smile did not leave her face. "I need to meet the group preparing your cover story. We'll refine it when I return."

"I can do it." Autumn smiled back, happy to prove herself.

**M** merely shrugged as Squall turned to leave.

No sooner had Squall left, Autumn turned to **M** with grit teeth. "I'll finish this without your help."

"I'm sure you will." **M** smiled cryptically in a way Autumn despised.

* * *

><p><em>I've seen all this before.<em>

[Ren] stood, all alone in that long-familiar field of grass blades. Through the green soft swords she could see the tall blue-haired girl laughing with a boy, teasing him in ways only a girl can. The face was unforgettable, laughing eyes and ocean blue hair with a mischievous smile hidden behind a folding fan.

Skies purple-red with misery and the sense of blood scattered across the heavens.

This scene, she had seen many times before. Sometimes the girl had long raven-black hair, other times it was short or long golden blonde. A few times it was grey-silver like platinum. But the scene was always the same, a boy with that girl running through the long blades of grass. This new scene of the blue-haired girl and laughing boy was distant, like a picture on a canvas seen through a sea of sharpened green swords. They were taller than [Ren], and she looked at her hand.

Her arm, short as it was when she was but five years of age.

Again, the pain across her right arm as lines drawn in blood tore through her skin. The mark of her family. Three straight lines and three broken red lines. Fire and Water in the same cup.

Her father's mark.

_"It's just not fair."_

Eyes awake and open to the night, [Ren] scowled as she heard a low drone from the bunk bed above. Her hand clawed at her pillow as if strangling someone, and indeed she felt like murder.

Haruko was snoring again.

Sitting up in her bed, [Ren] had more than once been tempted to catch a bug to drop into her partner's mouth. Preferably a cockroach.

It didn't happen often, as [Ren] usually slept at different times to her partner. But during quiet periods such as this, the noise was sanity-breaking.

Another loud, rattling snore.

_"I swear, it's because of all that stupid canned coffee you're drinking."_ [Ren] decided to step out of bed and wash her face. The heat of summer was still in the air, and it made her cringe to wake up with sweat cooler than the air outside. Haruko often chided her for wearing jackets in the heat, but [Ren] needed them. Partly to hide the tattoo on her arm, partly to hide all the knives and blades she carried on her person.

The cold water refreshed her as it splashed across her cheeks. [Ren] did not switch on the lights, as she could see quite well in the dark room. Looking up at the mirror, she stared back at the serpent eyes of the reverse-image girl within.

_"It's just not fair."_

Haruko's snores could be heard all throughout the apartment.

"I'm going out, Haruko." [Ren] declared to the sleeping form as she picked up her clothes. "For your sake. If I listen to you snore any longer, I'll have to kill you."

* * *

><p>The old shrine was quiet in the darkness, without light or life as [Ren] walked down the paved path.<p>

It was nearing the end of summer, and the O-Bon festival was fast approaching. Already there were stalls put up, lanterns hanging in the breeze unattended. The three-day festival of the dead had been celebrated in Japan for six centuries and even with the major changes in society was still integral to Japanese culture at its core.

[Ren] strode noiselessly along the little path to the temple, imagining what it would be like at the festival's peak. Quietly, she fantasized what it would be like. Walking down this same path during the festival. Wearing a yukata, a traditional garment she had not worn since she was a child.

She dreamed her hand was in Ichika Orimura's. Not as teenagers as they were now, but as young and innocent as children. Remembering that hand placing a toy ring around her finger.

It was something she hated herself for thinking, consistently reminding herself of the young man's many failings. After all, she was assigned to protect him in secret. She knew him better than the girls who flocked to him, knew his attitudes better than most. It was a level of knowledge that would prompt most women to lose interest in a man entirely.

And yet this night, she wished he was with her for once. Holding her hand in his. In a way that [Ren] was not an agent of the Johohonbu, nor a silent and cruel guardian.

To see her as a girl, not a venomous snake.

"This is not a temple that accepts snakes."

[Ren] silently turned to the voice, a woman in her late forties with stern demeanour and bearing. She stood with a wooden sword at the ready, eyes focused with the firm glare of a kendo practitioner.

"Please leave."

With a cold look, [Ren] turned away. There was no need of any word or gesture. The woman at the shrine clearly did not want her there.

And calling her a snake-the woman could see, she knew who and what [Ren] really was.

Noble and arrogant Samurai, like dragons flying in the sky. Whereas those like [Ren] crawled on the ground silently, like snakes.

[Ren] had expected that, wondering if she had been recognized even before setting foot in the shrine premises. The matriarch of the Shinonono Shrine had always been touchy about visitors in the night. There was no sound as she walked back the stone path to the outside, silent in the darkness that she returned to.

_"You're a sword. Kept safe and revered, never used."_ She silently spoke the words as if they were a curse, aimed at the Shinonono shrine itself. _"I'm just a knife, to be used and thrown away."_

Light was barely visible across the horizon, and [Ren] viewed the morning break across the sky. Once again, she imagined what it would feel like, Orimura's hand holding hers. _"Would he love this sight as well?"_

The silent ringing of her phone suddenly took her attention. Picking it up, she heard a familiar voice on the other line.

"[Ren]?"

"Haruko." [Ren] frowned. Kokuto was not a morning person. The tone of her voice indicated stress and restrained tension.

"Something's come up."

For the shortest of seconds, [Ren] wondered if she should have just ignored the call.

"I'll be right there."

* * *

><p>The sun's warmth made her stir.<p>

Autumn's eyes fluttered open when her hand felt no one beside her. The large bed she was in was empty save for herself and a heap of pillows, scattered about. Closing her eyes, Autumn tried to wish the feelings and sensations of the previous night back to reality but could not. She gently traced a line down the empty side of the bed, where her lover had been the night before.

The kisses in the night. The warm mornings wrapped in her arms. The way she made Autumn forget her past and bitterness. The only person who could take her rage away.

Autumn roused herself from the bed, missing Squall dearly. But her leader and lover needed to be elsewhere, leaving things with **M** and Autumn. She would not be back until after the mission, and it was in Autumn's high hopes that all would go well.

_No, it WILL go well._ She stood with determination simmering in her gut and bones. Autumn had no plans of returning to Autumn's fold without Byakushiki and Orimura Ichika's head.

* * *

><p>"This is a waste of time."<p>

The day began closing to dusk, and [Ren] found herself bored. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening, and still no alerts occurred. There was no news regarding Orimura, or anything about the individual they had been asked to look out for. It was a long and uneventful day, and the exercise felt like a waste of time. As it was, [Ren] found an ice cream stand, and purchased a cone. There was sadly little to do but stand around and look unimportant.

The secure line piped into [Ren]'s ear. Attached by wireless to her mobile phone, it was a common and unobtrusive enough tool that was vital to communications among the Johohonbu.

"Anything?" [Ren] asked.

"Nope. The city's closed-circuit cameras turned up nothing." Haruko stifled a yawn. "No visual match for that girl that the Americans are looking for, and no other flags popped up."

"You're the analyst. Analyse the situation."

"Shut up." Haruko mumbled. "Anything at all happening outside?"

"No change," [Ren] replied, casually eating her ice cream cone while sitting in the warm outdoors. She made an audible slurp as she replied. "Nothing of interest going on."

There was a moment's pause from Kokuto's end.

"[Ren], you're not eating ice cream are you?" Haruko's voice asked.

"No."

"**Liar!** I can hear you smacking your lips! You're enjoying an ice cream right now, all by yourself and you're rubbing it in!" Kokuto whined loudly on the line, bringing a smile to [Ren]'s face. "How could you do this to me?!"

"Easily." [Ren] took another bite of the cone. "Should you be screaming inside that dinky little car of yours?"

"You're evil. You're evil, cruel, selfish, homicidal and sadistic..."

"Blunt. You forgot your favourite word: Blunt." [Ren] finished the ice cream with an exaggeratedly audible gusto. "Mmm. It was a delicious coffee crumble ice cream."

"**I. Hate. You.**"

"You're welcome."

A disgruntled gripe, and Haruko cut the line in disgust.

Hearing that, [Ren] could not wipe the self-satisfied grin across her face. It might not be such a bad day after all.

* * *

><p><em>Ice cream. She was eating ice cream!<em> Haruko's brain was filled with a dozen miniature versions of herself forming a lynch mob. That same lynch mob was burning effigies of [Ren] en masse. _How dare she have ice cream for herself and rub it in! Ice cream!__**ICE CREAM!**_

There was a dull, hollow KLONK as Haruko banged her head onto her car's steering wheel. They had been on stakeout since early morning and there was nothing to show for it. _If it wasn't important I'd have just gone home._

The Johohonbu were up-to-date with the goings-on in other countries. It truth, they spied on their allies as well as their enemies, discreetly. On occasion these spies might be uncovered, posing serious embarrassment for the country doing the spying. Thus most intelligence agencies found out about things long before an official or media statement was put out.

So it was highly irregular when an American intelligence agency openly contacted the Johohonbu.

The United States Defence Intelligence Agency (DIA) was the Johohonbu's equivalent in America, a branch of military intelligence. Indeed, the Johohonbu was modelled after the former. The DIA was completely separate from the civilian Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and was known not to have the best of relationships with the latter. They made a direct request to the Johohonbu for information and assistance: Mere days ago, a facility in the US had been attacked. Not a known military base, but one of the many secret 'Black' bases stationed in the Americas.

The DIA had been open with the Johohonbu; Advising that IS Academy with its facilities and large number of personal IS users with prototype units would be the next likely target. They had been watching the Academy intently since the Silverio Gospel incident, as other nations would have. The very fact that the DIA was unnaturally open about this set off alarm bells. The DIA and the Johohonbu were not really allies, and the different intelligence agencies usually sought assistance within their own country first. IS Academy though, was a Japanese responsibility. To Haruko, it seemed more like the DIA was washing its hands of the matter by letting another country's agency handle it.

_Phantom Task._ Haruko knew very little about the organization apart from rumour and hearsay. What was available officially within the Johohonbu was no more reliable than the whispers on the internet. Conflicting stories claim the organization is American, German or Russian. Or of no country at all. That it was reputedly formed at the end of the Second World War, or only 40 to 50 years ago. There was no claim to ideology or religion, nor any official statements from the group regarding their actions. Even the scale of the group's operations was unknown, some claiming they were a small organization like the Japanese New Red Army (Shin-Sekigunha) or as large as Al-Qaeda.

One of the most prevalent rumours was that Phantom Task consisted of a Board of directors that led the actual organization, and Operational Squads which acted like self-contained Terrorist Cells. No one knew who was a member of the Board, and the Operational Squad members to date had never been caught. And even that information was highly suspect.

The only thing both official and unofficial sources agreed upon was that Phantom Task's primary goal has been the theft or destruction of IS exoskeletons.

_If they can control enough of the most advanced IS units, they become a world power unto themselves._

Haruko looked at the laptop sitting on the side seat. It was a tough task the little computer was doing-searching local CCTV records for even a rough match of the person they were searching for. The only description given by the DIA was from a composite sketch, as no clear photos or video were taken of the culprits. The sketch described a young woman who appeared to be in her teens. She was Asian in appearance, with black hair and superb combat skills. Apparently this young girl attacked the Americans' secret base, managing to incapacitate two squads of US Army soldiers even before using her own IS to break through the base. The surviving soldiers themselves provided the description.

"If I hadn't known better, I'd say that fits [Ren] to a T." Kokuto groaned. Except for the fact that [Ren] was never able to pilot an IS. Still, Haruko wasn't sure she liked the idea of another [Ren] in the world. She would have a nervous breakdown before that.

The scale of this operation meant that other Johohonbu agents were on the case as well. Normally, an operation like this would take a few days to set up. But with the approaching School Anniversary, they had little time to put security in place.

Larger intelligence operations on Japanese soil were normally the responsibility of the Public Security Intelligence Agency, or Koanchosa-cho. Unlike the Johohonbu it was subordinate to the Ministry of Justice, and thus more focused on internal security and espionage. Thus they cared little about IS Academy or its students' well-being. The Koanchosa-cho were more concerned with the definition of Japanese national security based on the now fifty-year-old 'Subversive Activities Prevention Act'. Which often meant Koreans, Chinese or even Americans-anyone who was not racially Japanese was a potential subversive entity, and that referred to more than 70% of the students at IS Academy. Kokuto felt the Koanchosa-cho were more of an obstruction to the Johohonbu and other agencies than the actual threats they had to face. [Ren] openly called them Japan's ongoing comedy routine, a bunch of clowns. Security for IS Academy was thus left to the smaller but normally more discreet Johohonbu.

Still, something of this scale was difficult to execute at short notice. By default the other agents should have deferred to Kokuto and [Ren], as they were the main agents in charge of issues relating to IS Academy, the Orimura siblings and anything to do with Tabane Shinonono. Or that was what Haruko would have liked to happen. Headquarters did not agree and insisted that all agents contact Johohonbu HQ directly for instructions.

Kokuto felt this was a waste of time, but had no real say in the matter. _The Cousseran incident and the Sarashiki's greater role could be another reason we're being stymied._ Thus, while Kokuto and [Ren] had assistance, the established chain of command would delay any response.

_But if the DIA is willing to trust us with secrets, they must think Phantom Task has already infiltrated the CIA._ Rumours existed that Phantom Task actually had supporters or members in the very intelligence agencies that were tasked with hunting them down. It would explain how a secret base could have been easily targeted. Both agencies were confronted with the same foe and assistance was always appreciated, but Haruko still shuddered to think of it. She then wondered: _Could Phantom Task actually be based in Japan?_

A second, fearful thought that Haruko hoped was just paranoia: _Could Phantom Task have already infiltrated the Johohonbu?_

* * *

><p><em>Makigami. Makigami.<em> Autumn shut her eyes, trying to memorize the name in a way that it would become second nature. She had only received her cover identity the hour before, Makigami of Mitsurugi Industries. The cover was only good for a few days, after which it was worthless. Autumn figured it would be best to take on the role as soon as possible. Opening her eyes again, she regarded the figure in the dressing-room mirror. Business suits were uncomfortable on her skin, Autumn would much rather wear casual or free-flowing clothes. _Easier to hide weapons in._ Despite that, she admired the pinstripe jacket that Squall had picked out for her. It was elegant, professional in its bearing.

"I don't think someone like you could afford such an expensive suit." The storeowner snidely remarked from behind her. Indeed, Autumn had entered the shop dressed in a sleeveless shirt and jeans, not the norm for the shop's typical customers. "That is one of our best, and it won't come cheap."

There was a grimace on Autumn's lips. For a second she hesitated, the temptation of simply pulling out a knife and slicing the storeowner's throat open colliding with her calmer assessment. Taking a breath, Autumn approached the storeowner. "My employer is paying for this."

"I see." The storeowner was an old man, who continued to look at Autumn with contempt. "And would your employer be paying cash for your clothes?"

"Yes. Please put this on her account." Autumn simply put down the charge card where the storeowner could see the name.

"O-on Miss Meusel's account?" The storeowner blanched at the card, and Autumn relished that hint of fear on the man's face. Squall was one of the shop's regular customers and had a large account with them. Every so often she would splurge on clothes as gifts to random people-not so much to show kindness as to cover her tracks. Robin Hood foiling the Sheriff, as Squall once joked. When one made so many purchases at the same store, one single purchase would not turn up as suspicious on any record. "Ah. Yes, yes. I'll let her know you picked up the order, Miss Makigami."

"Delivered." Autumn smiled. That way there would be no trace.

"Ah yes. Delivered." The storeowner bowed profusely, taking the card for payment while snivelling and grovelling. Autumn enjoyed every minute of it.

* * *

><p><em>Hm? That's odd.<em> Haruko panned back to the image that caught her eye. The Johohonbu were mainly occupied with Signals Intelligence-information gathered through the use of cameras, radio and internet telecommunications. That meant actual units on the ground like Haruko and [Ren] were the rare exception rather than the rule, and often for special cases such as IS Academy and the search for Tabane Shinonono. Thus, the bulk of Haruko's work had to do with video analysis.

Digital cameras occasionally had glitches. Transmissions would occasionally go wrong, or interference from local sources would cause images to warp. The most common of which was pixelation, wherein a video feed would freeze and turn into numerous digital bits onscreen. Conspiracy theorists online often cited this as proof that aliens in disguise were caught on camera. There was some truth to this, as spies and other groups occasionally developed systems for scrambling video recording. The video image passed her eyes again, and this time Kokuto was certain it wasn't a mere glitch. It was one of the many cameras in the shopping district, panning neatly across the faces in the crowd. The woman leaving the store was what caught her attention.

Her face was pixelated. And only her face. She ran the video back and forth, and the same effect turned up. Haruko thought this was too specific, too localized to be just another glitch. A transmission glitch happened with television or wireless transmission, but a CCTV camera was a wired connection. Part of the government's network of cameras nationwide, the dedicated cameras were isolated from the more public internet. Only government officers had access to the system-it was not a system that could easily be hacked into. Much less be affected by transmission glitches.

She called [Ren].

"I see her."

[Ren] followed the woman a safe, unassuming distance away. She was tall, with what [Ren] assumed were Eurasian features. Hair was long and black. The woman could pass for Japanese or Korean, or even Southeast Asian if she wanted to. There was also something in her stride that was indeed different, a more purposeful walk. She certainly did not walk or act like a spy trying to hide or be nonchalant. This was someone who carried herself like a fighter, not a tourist or some other civilian. Not military. Paramilitary, maybe security person or a mercenary.

"Waitasec. She's passing near a traffic speed camera." Haruko ordered, then a pause. While there was a large network of closed circuit cameras in and around the area, the Johohonbu did not have immediate direct access to each and every one. It took at least a few seconds before they could respond. "There's no mistaking it. The cameras can't make out her face."

"Twice in a row. No coincidence there." [Ren] continued to shadow the woman, who seemed preoccupied with looking off the coast at IS Academy in the distance. "Your analysis?"

"Only two things come to mind. Either she's got some sort of hidden scrambler," Kokuto's voice took a breath in. "Or she possesses an IS that can scramble digital video."

It was believed by some members of the Johohonbu that this was how Tabane Shinonono was consistently able to move freely despite video monitoring 24/7 around the area of IS Academy and other parts of Japan. Certainly, one of the IS reportedly stolen by Phantom Task was a combat infiltration unit.

"Wouldn't military-grade scramblers tend to project a false face?"

"Normally, yes." Haruko mutters back. The CIA and Russian FSB had used such scramblers in the past, to infiltrate and spy on Japanese soil. As neither agency had caused a fuss, the Johohonbu were content to pretend nothing happened. "She's probably left it on default settings. I wouldn't have picked it out otherwise."

"So she's a bigger idiot than Cousseran."

The garbled voice on the other end was Kokuto, trying not to scream. "None of the other agents have reported it, but they're on the lookout. You're the only one near her."

"I'll keep on her trail." [Ren] began, but noticed how often the woman kept looking in the direction of IS Academy. A little too intently for casual interest. "Haruko. What's your best guess? Tourists don't normally carry a scrambler. And professional spies would use the face projector to hide themselves."

"She's too tall to be the one that attacked the Americans' base." A sound of clicks as Kokuto tried to pick up more information on her computer. Without a positive facial identification it was all guesswork. Even had they managed to take the woman's face, it would be a week at least before something definite could be traced. "Say, [Ren]? You don't think she could be a member of-_THAT_ organization, do you?"

Normally [Ren] would respond back with: 'you're the analyst', but did not do so this time. There was no obvious or immediate intent from the woman she was following. But the scrambler plus the way she moved raised her suspicions. Looking consistently at IS Academy as if she were sizing it up, looking for a way in. Looking at the woman, she began to feel more certain that she was a threat. The locals did not take much interest in the Academy. A few tourists did, but not for such extended periods of time.

It was that look of intent that made [Ren] certain of this.

_You won't be able to handle an IS in a head-on fight._ Tatenashi's words stuck in her head. Something about the words seemed like a challenge, one that [Ren] could not help but take personally. If she was wrong, there was no harm done. But if she was right...

"Haruko. I'm taking the target out."

"Eh?" Kokuto's flabbergasted confusion was barely relayed through the earpiece. "But it's just a guess! We haven't confirmed-"

[Ren] wasn't listening to her partner. "I know what I'm doing."

"_-ARE WE ACTUALLY HAVING THIS CONVERSATION?!_"

[Ren] yanked the earpiece out and began to approach the woman more closely.

"[Ren]! Don't do anything stupid!" Haruko yelled into her phone, but the line was already dead.

* * *

><p>The day was closing, and Autumn had just about finished her walk. The coastline was free from people, and she felt it best to double-check potential escape routes before tomorrow's operation. Satisfied that every angle was considered, she took a small break.<p>

Autumn cupped her hands to catch the flowing water and brought it to her face. One deep breath, and she was at ease. The clothes would be shipped to the condominium, and a quick review of the timeframe was all she needed. Attacking the target and taking his IS should be no problem. And escape would be quick. Autumn realized that worst-case she could jump into the ocean and swim away from IS Academy with no trouble.

_And I won't need any help from that condescending brat._

She stepped out of the women's toilet, and began walking down the bayside park. Seeing she was still alone and unfollowed, Autumn relaxed. With the sun falling fast, IS Academy did not look as far from this part of the coastline. Autumn had never considered a frontal approach to the island before, with good reason. It was open, in plain sight. Most times an infiltration would be next to impossible. A frontal assault with a squad of fully equipped and trained troops might work, but Autumn doubted anyone would try anything that stupid.

_But just walking through the front door. Squall's a genius._ Autumn could not help but smile gleefully at the thought of infiltrating the Academy. Her one shot at impressing her leader and lover, by taking the IS Byakushiki. _Tomorrow._ Autumn had just turned, planning a leisurely walk back to Squall's condominium, when a voice stopped her.

"Yo."

Autumn turned around to the unexpected voice. Behind her was a wall, in front of which stood a single teenage girl. A baseball cap crowned a head of short black hair, and for a second Autumn thought it was actually **M** speaking to her. But no, the girl's voice was different. As were the piercing, snakelike eyes.

"Makigami Reiko, I presume?"

"Ah. You must be mistaken," taken aback, Autumn smiled falsely at the girl. "My name is Ayako. Makigami Ayako."

"You're a lousy liar. And an even worse assassin."

The elder woman did a double-take. "Excuse me?"

"Your calling card says Reiko." The girl with a cap pulled out a familiar card, one Autumn did not remember giving out. "You didn't even bother memorizing your own cover story, did you? You're painfully bad at this line of work." The girl threw two objects at Autumn's feet.

Autumn stared at the items on the ground, then reached for her back pocket. The empty pocket told her all.

The girl had somehow filched her wallet and card case.

"How clever, how clever." Autumn felt her face twinge madly, though she tried to control her emotions. She bent down to pick up the wallet and card case, making sure they weren't rigged. More than anything, the frustration at being played for a fool began to creep into her voice. "So. Who might you be?"

"[Ren]." The girl shoved her hands in her jacket pockets, a smug smile on her face. "Let me guess: You're with Phantom Task, correct?"

"How did you know that?" Autumn snarled.

"A little bird told me." [Ren] wore a smirk of victorious amusement on her lips as she caught the woman's look of surprise. That was all the confirmation she needed. She paced around Autumn from a distance, circling her like a snake did her prey. "The kidnapping of Orimura Ichika years ago. That was your doing, right?"

_Trying to intimidate me, brat?_ Arrogance took over. "And what if it is?"

"Secret organization my foot." [Ren] stopped with a shrug, facing Autumn directly. "It's not much of a secret when you idiots brag about it so much."

"If you already know, no sense in hiding it." Still trying to maintain her composure, Autumn confronted [Ren] with hands on her hips. "And which group are you with, then?"

"Me?" [Ren]'s shaded eyes fixed on Autumn with chilling precision. "I'm not as stupid as you are."

Autumn's hands dropped and she clenched her fists. She did not show it, but the girl disturbed her immensely. Irritated her with that arrogance. Those eyes. The hissing eyes enraged her. "Why are you looking at me with those eyes?"

"Why?" The girl replied. "Are you afraid of me?"

"What?!" It was more insulting than anything Autumn had heard of to date. The smugness once again reminded Autumn of **M**. Her rage-twisted face betrayed the loss of calmness and control, as she summoned part of her IS. Demonic long yellow-and-black limbs sprouted from her back. "Are you daring me, brat?!"

"Jorogumo." [Ren] passively assessed her opponent. A nightmare-spider of Japanese folklore, which masked itself as a woman. Calmly waiting at the centre of a web, but ready to burst out in violence at the slightest provocation. "Should you really be revealing yourself in public?"

"Shut up! The name of this IS is Arachne. Eight legs, with guns or blades depending on the situation." The demonic spider-arms flexed. Autumn's sideways glances showed that no other people had approached. Yet. Darkness was fast approaching. "So, what type of IS do you have to confront me with, brat?"

"Don't have one." [Ren] responded, hands still in her pockets. "Don't need one."

"Seriously?" Autumn had to chuckle. This little child, this girl was threatening her. Without an IS or even any weapons. "Without an IS, do you really think you can take me on?"

A silent and cruel smile was [Ren]'s response. Autumn's knuckles turned white as she balled up her fists. That smile, that arrogance enraged her.

"You infuriate me, brat."

"And I can only laugh at you." [Ren] smiled her snakelike, wicked smile as she traced the brim of her cap in mockery. "Amateur."

The impact of a giant spider's leg hammered into the wall inches from [Ren]'s face, but she did not flinch. Concrete dust and crumbling stone trickled to the ground, a sound overtaken only by Autumn's angered breathing.

"You arrogant little brat, I'll crush you like a flea."

"If brat is the worst thing you can call me, you need a larger vocabulary." Unshaken, [Ren] meets Autumn's eyes. "Do you know what happens when a snake meets a spider?"

A crazed grin marred Autumn's features. "Some spiders eat snakes, you know."

"Hah." [Ren]'s frightening smile matched her opponent's. "This ought to be fun, then."

* * *

><p><em>Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.<em>

Haruko desperately tried to scan through the cameras while driving, but she could not find where either her target or [Ren] had gone off to. They were nowhere near the last traffic camera Kokuto had been watching through, she'd just passed that point. There were no reported incidents yet, no public ones anyway. None of the other Johohonbu agents reported anything out of the ordinary as of yet. Johohonbu HQ was only now reviewing the video feeds she had indicated, but there was no confirmation or denial either way.

And now she'd lost her partner.

It had been an hour since they'd last spoken, and [Ren] was now probably in a different area of the town, confronting the woman. [Ren] preferred to take covert and often violent action. For all Kokuto knew, she might have jumped the gun and [Ren] had just decapitated an innocent bystander on her guess.

_[Ren] you idiot, why'd you disconnect?_

* * *

><p>Arachne scampered across the ground rapidly, hunting prey like its namesake.<p>

"Where are you?" Autumn howled at the night. The girl had begun the fight by throwing a knife at her, which she parried easily. Then she vanished, leaving Autumn to wonder if she had run away.

But she was there. Autumn fully deployed Arachne's armour and control suit to make full use of the IS capabilities, such as the faceplate containing Arachne's eight sensor eyes. The darkness began to fill the walk, and streetlamps began to flicker on. Autumn set her vision to low light mode, each individual eye scanning the area. Most IS like Arachne did not include infrared as part of their visual enhancements. Even so, the ground and structures were still warm from the sun's heat. She could not see her opponent clearly. Motion tracking was no good as it relied more on sound than actual movement, and Autumn's movements caused too much random noise.

Then just as she turned her head, she caught the sliver of a blade.

_What?_ Autumn blinked at it, strands of her hair falling past under the park lights. She had dodged in reflex rather than any true fear. _How could she cut my hair like that?_

"The slow blade penetrates the shield." A voice gleefully hissed, then was gone again in the darkness before one of Arachne's many arms could strike at her. The spiderlike arms fired energy bolts into the darkness but struck nothing.

_Of course._ Despite herself, Autumn's nerves twinged. The Passive Inertia Canceller or PIC shielding was intended to protect the IS pilot from sudden life-threatening impacts. It was effective against bullets and other high-speed attacks, as well as large close-combat weaponry like swords. Anything that could clearly damage the IS itself or its pilot was protected by the PIC. _But a small, handheld weapon like a knife?_

A rapid stab would be stopped by the PIC. But a stealthy, slow approach could get past. A gentle tap, or even a punch could get through without the field stopping it. The PIC was the IS exoskeleton's true armour-Bypass that and you had but a fragile human underneath. The PIC made the use of most infantry small arms partly obsolete. But the effective and precise use of a relatively slow-moving dagger was not something the designers had considered.

A sudden stab, Autumn blocked with a metal-gloved hand that broke the blade. _A paring knife? Is she mocking me?_ Arachne's multiple sensors and vision enhancements weren't helping at all. Autumn found it difficult to predict where the girl would attack from next. Another blade came at her, and then she realized why her opponent didn't simply kill the lights. Arachne's spider-arms flayed the metal edge but hit nothing but night air.

_Light and dark._ Arachne's vision enhancements worked fine. But rapidly adjusting between the bright streetlamp-lit sections of the park and the pitch-black night was what hampered Autumn's human eyes. The girl's smaller form kept moving, weaving between the street lamps and even behind Arachne's legs and armoured rear skirt. The knife-throwing girl might as well be invisible, flitting in between the night and the light. Autumn wished that she had added an automatic firearm to Arachne's weapon slots. That way she could just spray the area with bullets, force her opponent out of hiding. The beam cannons in Arachne's legs were not rated for long, sustained rapid fire. _Fighting a person in an IS with just knives._

"-ACH!" Autumn gasped in surprise as a cold edge painfully sliced her thigh. Before she could react, the girl was gone again. A glance showed a hair-thin cut, not serious. _Distance. I need distance._ Arachne scampered sideways like a crab, and despite all sensors searching Autumn could still not find where the girl was.

_She could have easily cut an artery,_ Autumn realized. In fact, she could have been easily dispatched by the girl at any time before she summoned her IS. _If she could pick my pocket without noticing-Why didn't she just kill me then? Why challenge me directly?_

Trembling, the spiderlike IS and its pilot stopped as Autumn finally understood the girl's reason.

_You actually think you can take me on. Just like her._ The same arrogance. The same overconfidence. The same lack of fear. The hatred in Autumn's gut boiled over. _She's just like that girl._

_Just like __**M**__._

_You think you're so smart._ She twitched nervously, like a tarantula threatened and baring its ugly fangs. The two pairs of foremost spider-legs reared up as Arachne stood on its hind legs, expanding to its maximum height over the streetlamps. Here, Autumn now had a better vantage point. _That you're so talented, so skilled that you can beat me even without using an IS._

The eight sensors in Arachne's helmet twisted wildly, trying to fix onto a target.

_When I catch you, I'm going to rip you apart._

The tips of the front spider legs opened up, spraying a wiry fluid all over the ground. In a circle, like a massive orb web with Autumn and Arachne at the centre. The IS stopped moving, save for pulling itself as low to the ground as possible. Autumn was breathing heavily, trying not to give into a rage-filled frenzy. Arachne's sensor eyes were still moving, still looking for the girl in the darkness.

Waiting.

Autumn's eyes flicked around like the mechanical sensors, wary and tensed. The girl was taking advantage of the light and dark, but Autumn had already set her trap. In the middle of lights, in the centre of the web, all she needed was one more movement from the girl with knives.

_There._

A dagger was thrown at her, which Autumn parried. Arachne's legs bolted upward in ranged firing mode, blasting away at the streetlamps. The energy blasts cracked the air as loudly as they burst the streetlamps they were aimed at. Fragile glass shattered and rained on the pavement and grass, as the circle of the spiderweb was suddenly bathed in darkness.

There was a stumbling sound as the girl was now the victim of her own plan. From light into sudden darkness, she was blinded for a few critical seconds. A loud thud followed, and Arachne's night vision-equipped sensors spotted [Ren] immediately.

The girl quickly realized it was the thin sticky strands wrapped around her right leg that fought her movement. Another jet of fluid webbing wrapped her arms and body together before she could raise her knife.

"Do you know it's dangerous to go stabbing people with knives?" There was no hiding Autumn's glee. "My turn, brat."

[Ren] was hurled into the air before she could cut the strands. Just as rapidly, she was slammed to the ground. Still stunned, she was then picked up and slammed into the ground again.

"It's dangerous for brats to play with knives."

Again.

"Arrogant like that, thinking you can beat the great Autumn?!"

And again. Blood started to spatter.

"You're like a kitten in a bag!" Autumn smiled as she picked up and swung her captive at the floor again, with all her might. Enjoying every second of it. _Bashing their little brains out on a sidewalk._

And again.

"That attitude you have makes me sick!"

And again. The sound of bones breaking.

"Like that. Just like that!"

And again.

"JUST LIKE THAT!"

Finally, one mighty swung hurled the girl at a nearby wall.

[Ren] felt the wall, but not the floor as she fell face-down into it.

* * *

><p>Confirmed gunfire.<p>

Haruko was now trying to sort out all the information coming in. The information came not from an agent but the local police channel. The town's police were now focusing on the area, apparently due to multiple reports from a bystander regarding 'some sort of giant spider' in the area. There were also sounds of demolition on the bayside walk, not ten minutes away from Haruko. In the opposite direction.

The Koanchosa-cho was tied with the Ministry of Justice, thus they would have gotten wind of the police communications long before Haruko did. They would not be happy to find agents of the Johohonbu operating in the area, despite the organization's obvious responsibilities regarding IS Academy. And if [Ren] was in the thick of it, Kokuto figured heads would roll in her organization. Maybe even hers.

Even now, it was having all of the hallmarks of a grand fiasco. The agents of the Johohonbu were performing like a comedy troupe, trying desperately to gain information about the situation but receiving delayed or downright incorrect reports. From what Kokuto could find from HQ, some of them were already cursing [Ren] by name. The police apparently knew more about the situation than they did, which meant that the Koanchosa-cho had a leg up on them already. The communications breakdown was practically farcical. And as Haruko turned her car around toward the reported source, she saw a hail of police squad lights and sirens zip past her. Going in the same direction.

_We're doomed. We are all so doomed._ Kokuto suddenly had that sinking feeling as she hit the gas pedal.

"Ha-ha~~This is so therapeutic!" Autumn cackled openly, still boiling over with bloodthirst and anger. She wanted to finish the job, crush the girl like a bug.

_I'll kill you. Slowly. Painfully. Violently._ Autumn dearly wanted to complete the task, finish off the girl with knives. She was skilled, but skill was pointless against the power of an IS. It was more of Autumn's annoyance, her resentment that she was kept busy by a child. A child that did not even have an IS equipped._Smash her. Smash her until her insides pour out._

[Ren] lay motionless on the ground, unaware of Autumn's approach.

_Just like that girl._ It was the real reason Autumn wanted to just reach out and crush this girl's skull, the feel the blood and brains ooze out into her hands. _Just like that __**M**__._

And then, that very voice was in her ear. "Autumn, retreat."

"Shut up!" The IS paused, the pilot bellowing loudly at the sky. Hearing **M**'s voice made her blood boil even further. "I'll kill her. I'll rip out those eyes, tear out her throat!"

"Don't be stupid." **M** did not seem particularly concerned about Autumn's fitful rage. "You'll ruin the operation."

"-I don't take my orders from you!" Arachne started taking steps toward the fallen girl, but in Autumn's mind it was **M** she was readying to crush in her metalshod hands. "I'll wipe this park down with her bloody spleen!"

"Autumn." Another voice, older yet less firm in tone. "The police are converging on your position. Break off."

"Squall." Autumn mumbled, still drunk from the adrenaline rush. "Don't worry. I can take them out."

"You'll be recognized." Squall's voice was a calming influence on her, and Autumn's temper cooled. The mission was more of a priority than personal spite. "Retreat. We still have the mission tomorrow."

A now-calm Autumn stopped, deactivating her IS. Standing above the body, her fists cracked. The desire to kill was still there, but she remembered her task. Her promise and commitment to her leader. Stepping back, she made sure that the girl was unconscious before turning around. Urgency filled her steps, and she strode off. No one had seen the fight, and she would be long gone before the police would arrive.

_I can't take any more chances._ Autumn considered dyeing her hair at the very least. They would be looking for a black-haired woman. _A red-orange colour, maybe. The colour of autumn._ From far off, Autumn shot one last glance at the battered body and cackled to herself.

_Another time, brat._

_Another time._

* * *

><p>Sitting atop a tower, <strong>M<strong> watched the fight below from a birds-eye view. Short black hair rustled in the wind as she watched Autumn retreat. Scoffing, she never thought much of the woman simple-minded and snivelling under Squall's slightest order. _Just like a rabid dog. Or a pet spider._

Frightening to see hissing at you, but of no real danger to one with any level of skill.

**M** had her reasons for joining Phantom Task, but bore no respect for its members. They were simply means to an end, using her just as she was using them for her own purposes. As long as she had her one chance, that was all she wanted.

"It was your IS that saved you, idiot." Frowning, **M** stood up. The fight she had observed was just proof of the IS capabilities in action. In a fair fight without the use of the IS, Autumn would have been the one broken and battered in the park. **M** didn't think much of the woman's abilities. Possessing Arachne gave Autumn every advantage in the fight, even if she had been careless with using it. If it had been **M**, she would have defeated the opponent in less than a minute. But skill in combat didn't really matter in the equation, using an IS against an ordinary person was like dropping a bomb on a single ant. _This is the power that changed the world order._

Still, **M** was bemused at the girl whom Autumn fought. She had managed to extend the battle long enough for the local authorities to be alerted. Surviving for more than fifteen minutes alone against an IS was indeed a feat.

"Too bad you're no good with an IS. You could actually have been worth something." **M** directed her words to the motionless girl on the ground afar with a mocking smile. "So. What are you going to do now, Shiho?"

Not that the answer mattered to **M**. Phantom Task's board of directors had other plans.

* * *

><p>Eyes opened to light and a world of pain. And an odd smell, one that did not correspond to an ocean sunrise.<p>

[Ren] slowly picked herself off the battered floor, fighting the pain of broken ribs. It was bright, unlike the night before. Yet she could not see the sun or the sky. Standing, she could feel the pain and yet not feel it. The pain seemed more like a reminder, rather than an urgent warning as she began to walk the shattered path.

Two steps forward, and she found herself in her old home. [Ren] thought it odd, as she had been outside just the second before. Now, it was the familiar reed-matted floor of the big house her father lived in. Walking forward, [Ren] did not hesitate to open the sliding paper doors of the old house, leading through to another room of reed mats. Another door she opened, another room full of mats. [Ren] went on through the many doors until she opened one last door.

The last room was the largest. All around were faceless figures in red, kneeling in silence toward the old, wizened hag at the centre. The old woman met [Ren]'s eyes with disgust and hatred, her eyes just as venomous in their stare. [Ren] knew then why her father called her Obake-Obaasan: Grandmother Ghoul.

All of a sudden, the entire red-clothed mass stared at her at once. All of them raised their arms, their red tattoo matching her own.

"The clan have a proper successor." The voice was low, with a mocking hiss as the old hag threw an accusing finger at [Ren]. "You. You are no longer needed."

She stood silent, blood seeping from her balled-up fist.

All of a sudden she was no longer in the old home, but in the elevated tram overlooking the city. A bright green park, the one she had met Tatenashi Sarashiki at only days prior. Looking down from strangely open door of the tram, she saw the scene of a laughing boy and girl. They were distant, a picture on canvas seen through a sea of sharpened grass.

The doors shut on the outside of the sky-tram, but none were sealed tighter than the emotions [Ren] felt in her heart. Cold and hateful, the only trace of emotion was the way she subtly wrung her hands together beneath her jacket. No one could see, no one would know. The tram pulled away from the park, back to the outskirts that lay close to the academy [Ren] had watched over. The skies with their blue joy mocked her inner misery.

[Ren] looked at her bandaged arm, but could not help remembering Tatenashi's face. The laughing eyes, ocean blue hair and mischievous smile hidden behind a folding fan. [Ren]'s clasped hands tightened at the thought of Orimura Ichika spending time with Sarashiki.

_He's mine._

Her arm, hiding the truth behind the wrappings.

It was a phantom pain, one that had no grounding in reality as the tattoo hiding beneath had healed ages ago. But the lines drawn in blood still tore through much deeper than skin. The mark of her family.

Her father's mark.

_It's not fair._

[Ren]'s eyes flew open, awakening to the white ceiling above.

She could barely breathe through the pipes in her nose, and felt uncomfortable with the bed she assumed she was lying in. Her right leg felt like it was made of stone, and there were jabbing bites in her right arm as well. There was a little weight on her arm and finger, and a small biting pain in her chest. The stale antiseptic air and electronic noises made her think of a cage. [Ren] tried to rise to a sitting position and found it difficult.

"Don't move too much." Haruko's voice. An electronic buzz, and [Ren] felt the bed underneath rise to a sitting position. The older girl looked concerned in a way [Ren] would have laughed at, had her chest not been in so much pain.

"God, you look awful." Kokuto mumbled, obviously lacking in sleep. "You decided to die another day, didn't you?"

[Ren] gave her a flat look.

"Even now, you don't get a James Bond joke." Haruko pouted, then removed her glasses to rub sleep from her own eyes. "Headquarters isn't happy. A lot of field agents aren't happy. The Koanchosa-cho is breathing down our backs. The only two good things are that we've confirmed a threat against IS academy and that neither of us are dead yet."

[Ren] did not reply. Being alive didn't feel like something worth celebrating at the moment.

"Seriously." Kokuto put her glasses back on. "What the hell made you think you could beat someone with a deployed IS?"

"She was an idiot." [Ren] replied painfully.

"A monkey with a machinegun is still dangerous."

"Point taken." [Ren] dejectedly looked at the clock and frowned. It was a dream, most or all of it. She was certain the fight against the woman in the spider-like IS was real, but the rest she was unsure of. "How long was I out of it?"

"Three days." A pop of a can as Haruko opened up another one of her coffee drinks. "You have five broken ribs. Right lung was almost punctured from the fragments. Your right leg is in a cast. Your right shoulder blade's splintered. Multiple head concussions. And tons of scars and bruises all over. And some other medical terms I can't even pronounce." Kokuto took a long gulp of coffee. "You looked like a tank ran over you. The doctors are still surprised you didn't get your skull or spine broken."

"That woman." [Ren]'s eyes had an odd flash of panic. "Did she infiltrate the Academy?"

Haruko replied slowly. "She did."

"Then-!"

"Sarashiki took care of it." Kokuto rubbed the back of her head, with an expression of weariness written all over. "Orimura's all right. And she took care of that nutcase with the spider-IS, too."

The answer did nothing to lighten [Ren]'s mood.

"Headquarters is putting it forward that Sarashiki's approach to guarding Orimura and IS Academy is the better choice." Haruko leaned back slightly in her chair, apparently exhausted from all the goings-on. "Hell, Tatenashi was even here earlier. She wanted to see how you were doing."

_You won't be able to handle an IS in a head-on fight._ The words were all [Ren] could think of when Sarahiki's name came up. _Foolishness!_ was the next memory in [Ren]'s mind. The voice of Obake-Obaasan chiding her with genuine hatred. Fresh as the day she had first heard it. It was then that she noticed the fresh flowers in the vase next to her. Flowers with an all-too familiar scent and colour.

Light blue lilies. The same colour as Sarashiki's hair.

"Those flowers."

"Yeah." Haruko then felt the oppressive silence of [Ren]'s stare. "Hey! She-she wasn't here to insult you, she was genuinely concerned!"

[Ren]'s bitter silence was worse than her sarcastic jabs.

"I need to be alone."

Haruko scratched her head. "Look..."

"I. Need. To be. Alone."

"All right." Kokuto stood and headed for the door. "I'll give you a few minutes."

No sooner did Haruko close the door than she heard the crash of a vase being thrown.

* * *

><p><em>Foolishness!<em>

[Ren] looked blankly at the stain on the wall. A mess of water, shattered pottery and broken lilies. Painfully, she fell back onto the bed with grit teeth and her left hand clasped tightly. She could not really move her right. For a few seconds, she maintained her arrogant demeanour to show to no one but herself. To fool no one but herself.

[Ren] had failed. Her mission. Her clan.

She had failed Ichika.

Here, alone and unwatched, she cried like a petulant child.

* * *

><p>Haruko's phone rang. The blocked number was one she was expecting as she answered with calm precision.<p>

"It's Kokuto."

The whispered, garbled voice on the line was a scrambled and inhuman mix. Kokuto knew that no one on the other end truly spoke-the synthesized voice was the result of a typed response to her reports. A speech machine basically read the sent message with emotionless precision. By this, her bosses would face little risk in being identified by their voices.

"No sir. I don't think she's taking it very well."

The computerized response stunned her.

"Excuse me? Sir?" Haruko looked from side to side nervously, hoping nobody overheard her. Cupping one hand over the speaker, she tried not to raise her voice. "Are you serious? She's still recovering. Isn't there anyone else?"

The response could not be any colder than the machine that answered back.

"No. I understand, sir. We have to strike while we can." Kokuto looked out at the window coldly. Her bosses were unnaturally insistent this time around. "I'll get her prepared as soon as possible."

As she set the phone down, she once again wondered that fearful thought.

_Could Phantom Task have already infiltrated the Johohonbu?_


	3. 3 Storm Shadow

**IS / Gaiden**

* * *

><p>The drive back home was long and silent.<p>

[Ren] hated cars. Small, tight spaces that were easily used as traps-she had sabotaged a few in her lifetime. They were necessary for transport, even if the one Haruko drove was too cramped for her tastes. But she had no say in the matter. The doctors were against discharging her from the hospital this early, but were overridden. [Ren] still wore a cast on her arm and had to favour her leg when moving around. She distinctly refused to use a crutch, and walked with only a slight hobble to prove it. The doctors still advised at least another month of bed rest.

The Johohonbu did not spare them that much time.

Any argument Haruko made about their current assignment was quashed; HQ advised they were confident that Sarashiki could do a much better job of protecting Orimura. Reluctantly, Haruko packed up from the hospital and drove off right away. It was a long, quiet trip, as IS Academy and the outlying town was situated two and a half hours away from the Japanese capital. Most of the drive was silent. Neither Kokuto or [Ren] had anything to say as they cruised the highway back. Back to an apartment that was a base, not a home.

[Ren] was the first to finally speak.

"How did the Ministry of Justice meeting go?"

Haruko was not sure whether to be thankful for the break in silence. "Not too well. The meeting lasted three hours." From what Kokuto had heard, the rival Koanchosa-cho wasted no time in accusing the Johohonbu agents of everything from dereliction of duty to outright conspiracy with 'the evil foreign powers'. _I can't believe we're being told off by idiots with brains still stuck in the 1930's._ Aloud: "I sure as hell am glad I wasn't in that room."

"Their priorities haven't changed much." Humoured disgust was in [Ren]'s response. The little car slowed as traffic began to build up. "Doesn't this remind you of how they reacted to the water park fiasco between Fan and Alcott?"

"**DON'T** remind me about that." Kokuto growled, and then stopped. The car waited in the traffic, cautiously purring along when the awkward silence between the two returned. Haruko finally broke after a minute. "You and I both know HQ will remove us both from this assignment."

"Oh? You're not happy with that?" [Ren] did not move. Her limbs still hurt too much. "Wouldn't you rather be assigned somewhere else?"

"This isn't funny, [Ren]! If we're no longer safeguarding Orimura Ichika..."

"Admit it." [Ren] kept a deadpan expression as she spoke, looking out the window with practiced boredom. They were practically in park, as with all the other cars on the road. A lilt of mocking humour grew in her voice. "You enjoy stalking young boys without their knowledge."

_I'M NOT A CREEPY PSYCHO LIKE YOU!_ Haruko bit her lip, suppressing what was either a moan of pain or a groan of impending disaster. All that escaped was a tired breath. "Are you really okay with that?"

[Ren] was silent, not even looking back at Kokuto.

_Yeah, I figured you'd say that._

Haruko slammed the car horn down in frustration. The vehicle in front screamed obscenities, which Kokuto returned in earnest. Apparently, the vigour was enough to cause even [Ren] to look back at her in amazement.

Kokuto gave her partner a withering glare. "What?"

"Haruko." [Ren] looked about ready to burst into laughter. "Should you be-"

"Shut up." Haruko snapped back. The traffic started moving again, and the car crawled just a bit forward. "You know, none of this would have happened if you didn't jump straight into things."

[Ren] was unmoved. "I had a gut feeling. They're usually right."

"Yeah?" Haruko's voice cut sharper than it usually did. "Well, this time it was wrong. Dead wrong."

"All I needed to do was take out that woman."

"**SHE HAD AN IS. YOU HAD NO WAY IN HELL.**" The traffic cleared enough for them to manoeuvre. An annoyed Haruko hit the accelerator and took the next off ramp back to the coastline, angry drivers screaming at her from behind. "And not another word about you being able to beat her."

[Ren] continued to stare out the window. "I could have."

"Oh for god's sake. You're whining like a teenaged-" Kokuto stopped at the obvious statement. "Never mind. Just drop it, okay?"

The next few minutes were again filled with silence, before [Ren] spoke again.

"I need to get back to work."

"No, what you need to do is get some rest." Kokuto emphasized. "We're waiting on new orders from HQ. You'll need the recovery time before duty calls."

"Our _DUTY_ is to watch over Orimura Ichika and keep an eye out for Shinonono Tabane. Until I'm told otherwise, that doesn't change." She began, still not looking at Haruko.

Kokuto remained silent, not wanting to tell [Ren] of their new orders.

[Ren] tested her right hand's grip, forcing herself not to wince. The pain was still there, but manageable. She looked back at her partner. "I need my knives."

"Well, now. That's going to be a problem." Haruko ran a hand through her hair, fighting the urge to rip it all out. "You see, the Koanchosa-cho paid us a home visit last night."

[Ren] turned to look at her partner, and she looked like cold death. "...what."

* * *

><p>"Where the hell are all my knives?"<p>

Kokuto grimaced but remained quiet. The very first thing they saw upon arriving was a home utterly ransacked. Just a day ago, the National Police headed by the Koanchosa-cho had swooped into their little apartment and took most of the equipment there. Haruko's orders from Johohonbu HQ were to allow them full access. The result being that her desktop, hard drives and files were all confiscated. Even articles of clothing were strewn about. Seeing this, [Ren] had immediately wanted to check on her inventory of blades.

The closet and the secret drawers were ripped out. The wreck of the work desk was unsalvageable, and the bed was a shattered heap. Nothing of value was left untouched.

"Figures." Had the situation not been so grim, Kokuto would have laughed at [Ren]'s pained expression. "Even the bread knives?"

"Bread knives. Letter openers. Ballpoint pens. My hard drives. Post-it notes." Haruko pulled up a chair, one of the things the heavy-handed search did not take. She dropped into the seat with weary frustration. "They even took my coffee from the fridge, those greedy pigs."

"And you did nothing."

"I'm an analyst. I analyse." Haruko bent her head forward, the lowest stoop and glare she could manage. "You're the field agent."

[Ren] continued to stare at the room. The pain in her right arm returned, aggravating her mood. Had she a knife, it would have been sunk deep in the head of a police officer. Any police officer available.

"The Ministry of Justice is holding an inquiry. The Koanchosa-cho has us by the balls. The whole Johohonbu are in too much trouble to complain about it," Kokuto grumbled, taking off her glasses to massage her aching skull. Aside from a can of coffee, Kokuto was wishing for a gun all the more now. If only to put it to her own head and pull the trigger. Between [Ren] and the shuffling insanity that was Japanese inter-service bureaucracy, Haruko was either going to commit suicide or go on a homicidal rampage. Preferably both, though not necessarily in that order. "I'm just waiting for the punchline. Where the top brass sacrifice us both to save their own hides."

Kokuto's phone rang at that moment.

"Nice punchline." [Ren] snapped off, earning her a cold stare.

"Kokuto." Haruko answered, sitting up a little straighter. "Yes sir, they've already been through here." Her posture became more taut at the next question. "Uh, yes sir. She's right here." Blinking, she looked at [Ren] in amazement. Then, she offered her phone to the girl, which [Ren] seemed unable to understand.

"He wants to speak to you."

"Me." [Ren] could see that Kokuto was not kidding.

Cautious. [Ren] picked the phone from Haruko's hand, and slowly put it to her ear. She took in a breath as she listened to the disembodied voice on the other end.

And closed her eyes.

* * *

><p>In her dark white dreams, she remembered.<p>

Alone in the musty room, despite the crowds of people all dressed in black. In front of her, a picture, wreathed in black with candles and offerings. The words and stares of the faceless red-garbed people all around as they looked at her with great and utter contempt.

Red. All wore red. There was none dressed to respect the man's passing.

_Your father was the most honourable man in this family.  
>Your father is the vilest traitor to the family.<em>

_Your father is a hero.  
>Your father is a villain.<em>

_You must walk in your father's footsteps.  
>You must bear your father's sins.<em>

One in particular, a boy slightly older than she, walked up to her with cold hatred. The red garb draped on his shoulders made him perfect, yet that perfection and pride was broken. Like the rest of the clan, he poisoned his look with disgust-filled eyes. Unlike the rest, he wore a prideful smile.

_Why did they choose you over me? I am more worthy._

She turned and ran.

As a child, the strides took forever. But eventually she escaped the house, the compound, the place where her father raised her and not left her. With none but the clan to teach her. She didn't know how long she'd run. Only that by the time she stopped, she could see only purple-red skies above and green blades of grass below. And silence that overwhelmed.

She remembered. This was where she first saw the boy, ages ago. A boy her age, who did not look at her with spite or hatred. The first person other than her father or godfather, to treat her kindly.

She could see the sight of him in the distance, through the blades of grass, but the old pain interfered. Blades cutting into her right arm, drawing out the symbol of her clan in ink as red as blood.

_"It's not fair."_

* * *

><p>"Aren't you going to tell me what he said?"<p>

[Ren] remained silent in her seat, unmoved since the morning's phone call.

Kokuto could not be sure if the girl was thinking over her actions or merely sulking. Or even if she had fallen asleep. It was hard to tell, and Haruko wondered if the girl slept with her eyes open. Like a real snake. Since then, she had managed to buy another caseload of coffee cans and some take-away for dinner. Not even bothering to start with food, Haruko tore open the case and started guzzling a can. She emptied it without pause, slumping into her own seat not long afterward.

No response from [Ren] at all. Haruko began to wonder what HQ had told the girl. That they were off the Orimura case was obvious, but there had to be more to it than that. [Ren] had been on the phone for fifteen minutes before wordlessly returning the mobile to Kokuto. Since then, she had simply sunk into a seat. Nothing was said on the call itself, it was more that [Ren] stood receiving orders.

_But what orders?_ Haruko already knew the answer but was unwilling to accept it. Most of the apartment had been tidied up, or at least made liveable. Two spare mattresses were all they had left to sleep on. There was nothing that could be done about the missing files and weapons. She wasn't in the mood for work, not after the whirlwind of the past few days.

"Dinner's served." Kokuto made a show of loudly placing the two plastic bowls on the kitchen countertop. Disposable wooden chopsticks followed. "Beef brisket noodles on the left, curry pork rice on the right. Take your pick."

[Ren] still did not budge.

"Fine, I'll have the noodles." Haruko took the bowl and opened it up, digging in with chopsticks. All the while, eyes on [Ren]'s unmoving form. A grimace as she started to chew on her food. _Lukewarm meat and cold gummy egg noodles._ Kokuto realized she should have been more wary of a shop that promised 'genuine Chinese ramen from Chongqing'. _And too much aniseed in the sauce. Are they trying to poison their customers?_

"Why don't _YOU_ tell me what his orders are?" [Ren] finally moved. Slowly, she turned her dead snakelike eyes to Haruko. "After all, he advised you of the mission first."

Noodles in mouth, Kokuto stared back at her in dumbfounded silence.

"So. When were you going to tell me?" [Ren]'s voice was colder than it had ever been. "Act your age and stop acting stupider than you normally do."

_Oh, you arrogant little bitch._ Haruko spat out the noodles, and her blood started to boil as the bowl flew straight into the sink. "Are you crazy? You're not ready."

"I'll say when I am or am not ready."

"Your ribs are still mending. Your arm and leg aren't fully healed yet, and you think you're ready to go back in the field? And you call **ME** stupid!" Haruko tossed aside the empty coffee can with more force than necessary. "That assignment's got nothing to do with Orimura Ichika or Tabane Shinonono. It's not connected to Phantom Task. It's not even in our area of responsibility. It's a suicide mission."

"I know." The snakelike eyes grew bladelike in their stare. "And so do you."

"Do you even know what they want you to do?" Kokuto bit her lip fiercely. "They want you to go out there and die. And you're somehow _PERFECTLY ALL RIGHT WITH THAT_. Can you at least tell me **WHY**?!"

Despite herself, [Ren] paused. Her answer was strangely weak, an afterthought. "It's my mission."

"Your mission." Haruko planted hands on her hips and nodded. "Sure you don't want any curry?" Kokuto offered the other bowl, but couldn't resist planting sarcasm. "It's cold. Slimy. Black. And it smells like a rat died in it. Might be a more pleasant method of suicide."

[Ren] glared at her, but Haruko did not back down. Giving up, the younger girl then walked to one of the mattresses. Wordlessly, she slowly slithered into it. Not even bothering to change clothes.

"Yeah. Thought so." Haruko tossed the other bowl out as well.

* * *

><p>The blades of grass rustled in her young ears. For a second, she wondered if it was the wind speaking to her. Purple, yellow and red hues coloured the sky. Dawn, not dusk. It had been dark when she ran from the house, from the steps and past the red stone pillars that bordered her family home. How far and how fast, she did not know. But she was here.<p>

Hidden. A little snake in the grass, hoping not to be found.

"What's your name?"

She spun around to the voice, like a snake about to strike.

A boy.

A boy her age, with black hair and a cheery smile. Standing amidst the taller blades of grass, unaware that he had startled her. The girl that she was stood straight but did not relax. Reflexively, she hid her right arm behind her back. Concealing the mark, wishing she had a weapon at hand. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm lost. And I don't know anybody." The boy chuckled, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. "I thought you might be able to help me find my sister."

Strangely familiar. _Father did that whenever he laughed._ In his voice there seemed to be none of the subterfuge or manipulation she had been accustomed to. Still, she was suspicious. "Why are you asking for my name?"

"My sister told me to be polite and ask someone's name first." The boy seemed incapable of understanding hints or subtext. "What's your name?"

For a moment, the girl hesitated, unsure what to make of the offer. She had trusted no one but her father, and he was gone. Taking every bit of courage in her heart, she finally replied.

"Shiho."

"My name's Ichika." The boy smiled with all the power of the sun. "Nice to meet you!"

* * *

><p>Opened eyes.<p>

[Ren] lay on her left side on her mattress. Awakened by her dreams, unable to return to sleep. She could hear Haruko's droning snore, but it did not bother her as much this time.

White noise, like a constant murmur in the near-empty room.

Tired. Lethargic. The hospital stay drained more of her energy than she expected. She would dip into short moments of sleep, even dream. But no rest. Like a heavy grey cloud hovering above. Pressure and weight bearing down from above, with no relief of rain.

_Your talents are wasted on guard duty,_ the electronic voice on the phone had told her. _This was not why we enlisted you, as an agent of the Johohonbu._

"My duty is to watch over Orimura Ichika." [Ren] mumbled. Words she should have said, in response to the orders she was given. On that call, her face was its usual stone mask. But deep inside she was screaming. Painfully she lifted her right arm, still covered in a lightweight cast. The tattoo could not be seen, and for that at least she was thankful. Flexing her fingers, she lightly scratched the floor. Wondering.

_Your skills are needed elsewhere. Agent Kokuto has already been briefed. Has she not instructed you?_ The machine voice had no emotion, but [Ren] could imagine how the man behind the words seethed as he relayed the command. Haruko's irritated behaviour had hinted at the change, even if she could not spit it out. _Your actions of late show that your skills are inappropriate for this operation. The Sarashiki family is more than capable of protecting one boy and his IS._

[Ren] did not respond to that statement. She simply could not.

Even if she wanted to.

_You have a new mission, Shiho. One more important than guarding a teenage boy._ The speaker on the phone knew her name. Her real name. Only the upper-ranked members of the Johohonbu would know. In the end, she knew no more than what Haruko was unwilling to discuss. However, [Ren] could only guess. _Agent Kokuto has the particulars. You do not have much time to execute this._

_Remember to bring a fur coat,_ was the last statement she had heard. She wasn't sure if they were mocking her at that moment.

She stood from the mattress, to get away from her thoughts for the moment. Not knowing what else to do, she stepped outside and began to walk. The night was all around, the neighbourhood silent in the time before dawn but after midnight. Her leg still ached when she walked; something [Ren] found a nuisance. Still she did not feel like returning to bed, instead opting to walk to the bayside. The walk was not long, but felt like forever as [Ren] strode the walks and pathways in silence.

Barefooted. Thankful the streets were cool and clean.

At the end of the road, she found herself on the bayside walk. The same walk she had fought the woman with the Spider-IS. Not the same spot, but it recalled the incident too vividly.

The view was the same. Even at night, the light and glow across the bay could be seen. [Ren] was silent as she looked out at IS Academy, that island of light in the distance.

Unreachable, across the short sea in between.

The light invited and repelled her. There, across the bay. Light and laughter, teenagers enjoying their fleeting youth. While she stood here, in shadow. The dichotomy was not lost on her.

The night was where she belonged, hidden.

_I can't hide anymore, can I?_ She sat on the bayside like a normal girl her age, with her arms wrapped around her knees. _Not even in my dreams._

* * *

><p>"You were crying."<p>

[Ren]'s eyes popped open at Kokuto's voice. Looking up at the dawn sky, she saw her partner looking back down. Can of coffee in hand, dishevelled hair and glasses that made her look much older than she was. There were still streaks of purple and red above, losing the fight to the lighter blue and lack of clouds.

[Ren] took a second to remember she was sitting on the beach walk. She absently rubbed her eyes. "It's from sleep. I wasn't crying."

"Sure. That's your story now." Haruko shoved her free hand in her pocket, then plopped on the bayside with an air of defeat. Her throat made a guttural dead noise before slamming down the rest of her drink in one gulp. Kokuto then tried to throw the can into a nearby trash bin.

A clank. A clatter of can on the street. Missed.

"Right." Haruko stared at the empty can on the walk until it stopped. After a few seconds of dead air, she decided not to bother getting up. "God, I hate the world today."

"Shut up." [Ren] reflexively shot back as she turned, facing the same direction as Haruko. An afterthought as she asked: "There was actually a time you didn't hate the world?"

Even [Ren] was shocked by Kokuto's sudden and decidedly evil cackle. A laugh loud and strong enough that Haruko teetered over and fell on her back on the grass. Still laughing, like a madwoman shot down. Then she stopped. Spread-armed and looking at the blue sky above. She stopped as abruptly as she began. Lying on the grass, Kokuto just kept looking upward. At emptiness.

"Honestly, I don't care anymore. Not about my job, not about this damned place. Not even if I get arrested." Haruko's fingers and wrists twitched, like a dying man. "After this, absolutely nothing matters."

[Ren] knew what she was talking about. Not meeting Haruko's eye, she looked at the sidewalk, the grass and the steady increase of people. The morning was beginning to warm the town, everyday ordinary mundane life starting to act and live. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Never." Kokuto remained on the grass.

"What, you didn't want the abuse to end?"

"I didn't want you doing something you didn't want to do."

[Ren] opened her mouth, but the words were different from what she wanted to say. "It was what I used to do."

"What you used to do. Removal of unlawful influential assets," Kokuto halfway asked, halfway declared it. The few people walking past took no notice, as people did in daily life. Ignoring anything that was not of interest or not a threat. "What was it, sabotage? Espionage?" A pause. "Assassination?"

A small cold bite in the air made itself known.

"How far?"

"Hokkaido." Kokuto shut her eyes a moment. The tip of Japan, the dragon's head. Where winter hit the islands earliest. That meant driving 17 hours nonstop to Aomori. Haruko doubted her little car could hold together that long, but airplane and train travel were not covered by the office. Then another 4 hours ferry trip from Aomori to Hakodate. Then 5 hours from there to... "It's a spot in the mountains."

"For this job I need weapons." [Ren] did not budge from her seat. "I know someplace I can get them."

"I bet you do." Haruko abruptly pulled herself up to sitting level. "An assassin would make an ideal bodyguard, is that what you said to convince them?"

[Ren] kept silent, but Kokuto could tell. There were cracks in the cruel facade she tried to keep up. A snake would hiss and eye you coldly, even if it had no bite left in itself.

Kokuto harrumphed and shrugged. Then stood up. "I'll get the car. It's going to be a hell of a road trip."

[Ren] seemed to hesitate a moment before standing. Without a word she followed Kokuto a short walk to the car. By the time they reached the vehicle, [Ren] could see a few luggage bags in the back. She tried her most sarcastic tone but it felt tired, flat.

"I see you've packed."

"Not much point in staying." She got in and lowered the window on her side. Haruko could feel a bit of chill, of winter in the distance. Snow and cold never came down to this coastline, not like the frozen mountains of the north. Here and now was the beachside valley of near-eternal summer which if she and [Ren] left, they would never be able to return. The day was still new, not one to be spent mulling over a mission.

Kokuto glanced at her watch. "You know what? Let's take a detour."

"Detour." [Ren] replied flatly. "This isn't another one of your coffee runs, is it?"

"Humour me. It's not going to change anything."

For some odd reason, [Ren] felt her skin prickle. "I don't see the point."

"The point is I'm driving."

A seething glare. "Whatever."

"Hmm. Where do we start?" Haruko had a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "How long has it been since you had your hair done?"

* * *

><p>A metallic snip, and the last of her black locks fell to the ground. A light brush and a blow-dryer went through the motions, a feeling unfamiliar and uncomfortable to [Ren] as she sat silently through it all.<p>

"All done." The hairstylist kept a politely saccharine, insincere smile as she held up the mirror.

Staring back at her was a girl with a neat boyish haircut and a deep frown.

Kokuto smiled, giving [Ren] a thumbs-up of approval.

_Haruko._ [Ren] was disgusted with the look, but said nothing. _I'll get you for this._

* * *

><p>A division between what is pure and what is corrupt.<p>

The unmistakeable mass of red torii hovered at the foot of the steps. Much like a path she had taken weeks earlier, before the O-Bon festival.

A red gate hidden among the green. It belonged and did not belong, like [Ren] herself.

The mountain she now faced was tall and deeper green-grey rough-hewn stone, unlike the gentler slope of the shrine's hill. This new path was not lined by the giant structures. No gods were here to thank, no wealthy patrons donating their millions to add brothers to the lone red gate. This was not a place for Shinto worship, no shrine lay at the end. It was just the one torii, a warning rather than a welcome. Imposing yet silently hidden, no one visited this spot save those who had purpose here. The wooden torii of a Shinto Shrine were more elaborate, with a roof above the top. This was a simple, older design of two long wooden beams across the top of the huge stone posts.

The comparative irony did not escape [Ren] as she began to walk toward red-hewn stone pillars.

"You sure you want me to wait?"

[Ren] did not turn to face Haruko on the bottom step. The car was idling, parked on the incline of the hill.

"It's just me from here on." [Ren] replied, strangely looking up at the blood-red gate. Doubt in her eyes, whether she was walking back into the realm of the sacred or the profane. "Guests not allowed."

Haruko did not reply, but shut the engine. She knew full well what lay beyond the red gates.

[Ren] went up the steps, without word or sound as she distanced herself from Kokuto's car. Soon, the green forests hid all from view. Sunlight could barely sneak past the trees and their shade, melting the view of the path that was still visible.

She came to a stop at one tree. Etched into the wood was the same symbol tattooed on her arm. Symbols of the I-ching, two broken lines split by a straight line for water. Fire was its opposite, two straight lines split by a broken line. A second meaning existed within the first: Three straight lines stood for the heavens, while three broken lines represent earth.

The symbol of the clan. Being both Fire and Water, masters of Heaven and Earth.

She walked on, taking more caution in every step she took. Eyes felt but not seen were watching her.

Another wooden torii, much smaller than the first. This one unpainted, a dull and simple brown structure standing watch over a hidden home. No walls were seen. Or needed. [Ren] walked through the gate in silence, but not silent.

There were a few people tending to the courtyard, entrance to a large and classical home. Glazed tile roofs atop lacquered wood and paper structures. The house was vast, as large as she had remembered it as a child. Those around remained engrossed in their work: Cutting the grass and trimming the hedges. Housekeepers, gardeners and hired help. An expected sight. Part of the scenery. Ignored by all. As invisible to ordinary people as air.

[Ren] knew. The Clan did not employ outsiders. And though they kept silent, she could hear. The whispers. They accused beneath their breath, pretending that she could not hear them. But she heard. Clearly. And they knew she could hear, though they pretended she could not.

_Bastard child._

_Devil child._

_Stain on the Clan's name._

[Ren]'s vicious smile could not be wider. She relished in the spite they all had for her, fed on it. The pride made the pain in her arm and leg throb slightly as she walked. The path was clear and she had her lip curl in a smile as she strode forth. _Let them see me, let them see my contempt._

And then she stopped. The entranceway to the house, foreboding and forbidding. Paper doors shut, but to [Ren] as impenetrable as iron and stone. The sounds of grass-cutting and sweeping disappeared. Not even birds or beetles sang or moved. Total silence remained.

"You know I'm not armed. You know why I'm here," she whispered, knowing the ears on the ground could hear and the eyes in the trees could see. The gardeners and help were absent from view, but their presence remained. Hostile in response if not intent. [Ren] made no move, instead defiantly staring at the doors. "You know who I want to talk to."

The doors slid open slowly, to cause no sound. And a lone person strode out of the shadows.

A young man of his twenties. Uncharacteristically clothed in formal business wear, sharp edged tie and suit. In his hand sat an unlit cigarette, the rumpled appearance of which suggested he rolled his own smokes.

[Ren] wore a razor-edged grin on her face. "Yo, Jo."

"That's such a stupid joke." Hijikata snarled through the polite smile that was not a smile. Baring teeth. Like a tiger in its home territory. A snap of fingers, and the cigarette on Hijikata's lips lit. "Really. When everyone in the family is against you, you really should accept all the kindness you get." He shook his head, taking a deep and savoury breath through his cigarette.

"The Strong Master." [Ren] spoke it mockingly, and felt a dozen unseen eyes pierce her with hatred. Far fewer than she had been expecting. Which meant that the clan's home was understaffed? There was only one reason it would have been so. "You've been busy."

"Unlike some." Hijikata crossed his arms. "Your skills-the clan's skills-were not meant for babysitting a mere boy." A tap and ash fell from the lit cigarette. The grey ash never reached the ground, as Jo casually sliced his free hand under it. The ash was gone, mere dust in the wind. "We are not shields. We are swords. We do not protect by stupidly throwing our bodies in front of our lords as the samurai do." Another draw of the cigarette. "We protect by killing anyone and anything that threatens our lord."

"And who is our 'lord'?"

"Japan." Hijikata replied, unflinching.

"I am not a sword."

"No. That you are not." Hijikata did not move. Like a tiger ready to pounce, he stood relaxed and wary all at once. "You will fight alone. You will always fight alone. One day you'll die, and on that day the clan will rejoice."

[Ren] tried to match his cold smile. "Then throw my corpse a party."

"The boy you like won't be won over by a demon's smile."

[Ren] refused to be baited, leaving Jo to try another tactic.

"What is it you really want, Shiho?" He replied under his breath, loud enough only for [Ren] to hear. Jo's smile was smug as he looked down upon the girl who he saw as blight on his existence. "I have heard from the Johohonbu, they've relieved you of guard duty. This joke has gone too far for too long."

She did not look at him. [Ren]'s eyes were warily eyeing the absent gardeners and household help. All of them unseen, yet watching. All casting hateful glances at her when they thought she wasn't looking. Whispering in venomous, small drips under their breath.

_Devil. Snake. Bastard. Monster._

"They have asked me to undertake a killing." [Ren] responded. She refused to use the more professional term: Assassination.

"Where?" Jo asked, uninterested.

"North."

A ghastly chuckle. "So you couldn't keep away from it after all."

[Ren]'s snakelike eyes met the proud tiger in Hijikata's eyes.

"An assassin who does not want to kill. What good is that?" Hijikata blew the rest of his smoke into the air. "What good are you?"

"I am not here to argue with you." [Ren]'s eyes continued to lock eyes with Jo's. The snake would not back down. "I want what's mine."

For the first time, the mocking smile left the Strong Master's face. It was a mien that spoke of personal offence, the way a tiger reacted to a little snake threatening his majesty. "You own nothing."

"I own what my father bequeathed to me."

"Oh?" There seemed to be flicker of relief on Jo's face for a split-second. "Just that?" Hijikata's sudden cold laughter chilled even [Ren]'s bones. "Very well." A wave of his hand, and wind chilled the air.

Whispers. Singing. Not a traditional Japanese song, nor was it modern. The lilt was familiar to [Ren], as she had heard it sung to her as a child.

An American nursery rhyme. Something she learned from her father.

Something the others hidden from sight mocked her with.

_Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor.  
>Rich Man, Poor Man, Beggar Man, Thief.<br>Black Man, White Man, Red Man, Old Man.  
>Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief.<em>

[Ren] almost snickered aloud as she whispered her own lines to the tale.

"_One man did what no man could,  
>stole my fate that's understood.<br>What he did was beyond belief;  
>oh that devil was a common thief!<em>"

She met Hijikata's hateful eyes as she spoke thus.

From the depths of the home a bag was thrown, landing squarely at [Ren]'s feet.

"Take it." The still-smiling Jo rasped. "Take it and never come back."

* * *

><p>The phone was left off.<p>

Crumpling the fifth empty can, she was going to toss it in the back like the four before it. But eventually she settled for tossing it in the front passenger seat with a disgruntled sigh. [Ren] had not been gone long, but she was bored. Fishing into her pocket, she looked at the little black object.

A thumbdrive, small with only 8 gigabytes of data on it. Kokuto frowned. In the little device was a collection of information she had been sitting on. The device never left her person, especially after the search of the apartment. In it was her own investigation, separate from the Johohonbu. Information that the heads in HQ wanted her to undertake off the record. Sightings. Locations. Findings. Information.

_Blackmail._ She considered. Information that she could use to get out of this mess on her own. But she doubted Johohonbu HQ and its secret heads would play ball. _They'd just take this data and sweep it under the rug._ They could not keep any secrets from the rest of the Government intelligence agencies any longer. And the information would be sloppily handled.

_Could Phantom Task have already infiltrated the Johohonbu?_

Disgusted, Kokuto wanted another can of coffee.

"Haruko."

"**GAH!**" Kokuto jumped when she saw [Ren] standing outside her car window. Instinctively she hid the device in her skirt pocket. "**DON'T. DO. THAT!**"

"We're good to go." [Ren] walked over to the passenger side door and entered, a bag on her lap as she sat. It was an old duffel bag, of the variety used by the US Army in the 1970's. The faded black stencils scrawled on the surface were of the same typeface used by the American military, though unreadable now.

Haruko started up the car but left it idling. "What's in it? Your father's keepsakes?"

"No." [Ren] responded quietly. "This."

Inside the bag were all manner of weapons. [Ren] picked out the most notable one: a straight sword in its scabbard, which had no hilt. A second one was produced, a slightly curved smaller brother to the first. Blades that took no pride in being swords, lacking in any of the honour that the traditional Japanese Katana had.

"Chokuto and Wakizashi. My father kept these for me." [Ren] explained before Kokuto could think of asking. She drew the weapon slowly. The swords, despite not being of the same steel and temper as a true Katana, felt firm in her hand. They were by both law and necessity shorter than the traditional Katana of lore. The straight blade Chokuto was a size ideal for an adolescent. The shorter Wakizashi was the better made of the two, more a large knife than a sword. Haruko had heard of them, weapons that in medieval times were prohibited from being long enough to challenge the katana. Swords that had no right to question the nobility of the samurai. Paired together, one slightly shorter than the other.

Swords that were called knives by the Samurai-the only ones in those times allowed to have a true sword.

There were a large variety of star-shaped throwing blades or shuriken, which Kokuto was not surprised to see. [Ren]'s skill with throwing concealed weapons made them expected. The small blades were simple but reliable weapons, easily carried and expendable. Some had as many as eight points; others were simpler with four or three points. More conventional modern throwing knives were also in the mix.

If the swords seemed ancient, the bow was more modern in design. [Ren] began to assemble the weapon slowly, a symmetrical combination of hard black plastic and dark metal. A pair of wheels and pulleys sat just above and below the centre grip, and [Ren] initially had difficulty pulling the bow's drawstring through these by hand. Although it was in good condition, the scars and chips on its handle and arms showed how much wear the weapon had gone through. [Ren] grunted with great effort as she prepped the bow.

Haruko wasn't used to see [Ren] straining at any task, and wondered if she was hurt more badly than she let on. "Isn't that a lot of trouble?"

Seconds later, the bow was prepared. "I won't be able to throw as well with my right arm. The bow will give me more range."

_You're seriously going through with this. With rusty old ninja swords and a bow. Have you got a death wish?_ Haruko was sure she didn't have to say that out loud.

"All of these weapons are silent," [Ren] explained as she picked up one of the star-shaped blades. Four tips, perfect angles. Testing its balance, how it felt in her left hand. Satisfied, she put it back in the bag. "Besides. You honestly think HQ will just give me weapons?"

_Well it's a mission,_ Kokuto thought but did not speak. Given the trouble it was in, the Johohonbu would most likely ignore the request.

[Ren] took out one last weapon. Unlike the others, this was unused and well-kept. She tested it against the light bandages around her right arm, which parted easily to its sharp edge.

A Tanto, far simpler and robust in design than the swords. [Ren] drew the blade, noiseless as it slid out of its casing. Haruko thought it jarring, as the thick blade was coated black like modern military knives. Yet it sat within a traditional, if plain scabbard and handle of equally dark lacquered wood.

"Are you really okay with this?" Haruko was formulating her own plan in her mind.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I've no compunctions about killing." [Ren] felt the weight of the heavy Tanto in her hand. The chisel-pointed blade seemed to mock her in the dim light as she toyed with it, locking the weapon in a hidden holster then drawing it out again. Still no noise from the sheathing or resheathing action. [Ren] was satisfied and kept the blade out. "I was just wondering how Orimura Ichika would feel about it."

"Is he really that kind of man?"

"He was too kind, even back as a child." [Ren]'s eyes opened, the focused glare of a serpent ready to strike. The only other item in the bag was what looked vaguely like a karate gi, the garments used in martial arts practice. Yet the cloth was thicker, worn. Crude patches were sewn into the legs and arms, in some places as thick as padding. It was more grey than white, musty cobwebs and dust with their mottled prints marking every inch. Dirty snow or the scarred scales of a snake. "Because he's kind, I have to be cruel."

Without another word, [Ren] took the tanto and started shredding one of the pants legs.

Haruko was befuddled. "What are you doing?"

"Making edits." [Ren] continued to slice viciously through the cloth. "I was twelve when I last wore this. I've grown up since then."

"Not by much." Kokuto mumbled, but went back to driving. "You know, we could just buy you some white winter clothing."

"Another excuse to go shopping."

"Shut up." Haruko's peeved mien glared back at [Ren]. Like old times. "I'll have to fill up in the city before we start off. This little beetle of a car won't get very far on a half tank."

"Before that." A shredding of fibres. The pants leg was widened, space enough to wear over street clothes. "There's one more person I need to speak to."

"Dammit." Haruko's palm clapped hard on the steering wheel. "You know you can't speak to Orimura Ichika. HQ is strict about that."

"It's not him I need to speak to."

"Eh?" Haruko looked back at [Ren], perplexed.

"You know who." [Ren] toyed a bit more with the cloth, then gave up by resheathing her knife. She tucked the baseball cap over her brow. "Wake me when we get there."

* * *

><p>They met each other a few more times in that field. Ichika once wrote his name in the soil, oddly enough in Kanji. Orimura Ichika: Cut from a bone, a single summer. He then asked his playmate what her full name was.<p>

Shiho only wrote her given name in plan hiragana, which meant nothing. Ichika did not pursue the matter further.

Those few times they played chase together, Ichika could never catch her. On more than one occasion he wondered how it was Shiho ran as fast as she did. Or hid as well as she did. At the age of five or six, Ichika kept trying but almost always lost to Shiho. Except the moments she let him win.

Shiho never answered when he asked. She could never explain how her feats were considered normal for her clan. _Maybe I'm just stronger,_ she wanted to say. But Shiho was also afraid to lose the only friend she had.

The times she spent with him were short, in the grassy plains beneath the mountain. Away from the big house, away from the clan. She preferred it here, where no one forced her to apologize for things her father supposedly did.

"I bet you have a big family." Ichika asked.

Shiho was afraid for a second, but answered. "Yeah."

"In my family there's just me and Chifuyu-nee," Ichika didn't seem sad or jealous, just stating a fact. Then a worried look on his face, coupled with that sheepish laughter. And the silly gesture of scratching his head. "We don't stay in the same place for long. Maybe I'll go somewhere else."

"**DON'T!**"

Ichika was a little frightened at this response, but laughed it off. "Actually, Chifuyu-nee usually takes me to different places to live. She says it's to protect me. Maybe she'll stay here this time."

"If you stay, I'll protect you."

"Hah?" Ichika had an odd look on his face, not laughing only because of the seriousness on the little girl's face. "But you're a girl."

"I will protect you." The little girl grabbed his hand tightly. "If I protect you, do you promise to stay?"

"It's a boy's job to protect a girl, you know." He then stopped, realizing how he sounded after mentioning his sister earlier. "I mean only giant robots and big monsters can protect a boy. Just like in the cartoons."

"Then I'll stop being a girl." Shiho spoke in a firm voice, with unnatural determination for a child her age. "Even if I have to become a monster, I'll protect you. Just stay."

"I promise I'll stay, Shiho-chan." Ichika smiled back, more than a little amused at Shiho's serious look. "If you promise to tell me about your family."

There was a hint of terror in the little girl's eyes for a second, but it left just as quickly. Shiho had already decided. Without her father there was no reason for her to stay with the clan. At worst, she would go with Ichika. Shiho actually liked the idea, being part of another family. To be with her first real friend. "If you come here tomorrow, I'll tell you."

"It's a promise." Ichika held up a small hand, pinky finger curled. "Pinky promise?"

Shiho curled her small, trusting finger around his.

* * *

><p>It was one of the few public areas of the island, yet one that saw few people roaming it. A small park, with little greenery and lighting. Quiet, without the school's usual sounds of girl talk and giggling. The support staff of IS Academy occasionally took their lunch breaks here, cloistered away from work and the students nearby. It was not monitored as heavily as the rest of the island, something that Orimura Chifuyu made a mental note to change in the next few days.<p>

Chifuyu felt uncomfortable with the calm. Something was always going wrong in and around the Academy. If everything appeared to be going smoothly, then something was going VERY wrong and Chifuyu didn't know about it just yet. A frown as she realized that it would very likely involve her younger brother.

A glance at her watch. Quarter past three in the afternoon. The exact time she had been advised in the message earlier. At this specific location.

"Orimura Chifuyu."

She turned to the voice. A girl stepped out of a tree's shade and into the sun. Baseball cap shading her eyes, but as young as most of the first-years at IS Academy. The girl's face was new to her, not one of the faces she'd seen in the school or among the staff. Suspicion crossed Orimura's face as she wondered how the girl got through security.

"You finally show yourself," Chifuyu challenged in her low and cautious monotone. New, yet strangely familiar. Almost in reflex, she put one arm to her waist. A casual pose to most, but it hid her intentions well. It hid her footing and stance from the person she was speaking to.

"You're prompt." The mystery girl stopped a short distance from Orimura. Had Chifuyu brought a sword, the girl would be just out of her reach. Cautious, as if debating whether to wait or to strike. "I didn't think you would take time out of your busy schedule to see me."

Orimura was not amused. "Your name, little girl?"

The girl chuckled, as if privy to an inside joke. "[Ren]. Just call me that."

"So, what did you want to talk about? Or are you just here to waste my time?"

"If you thought this was a waste of time, you wouldn't be speaking to me. White is black. And black is white." [Ren] took a few more cautious steps forward, now within the edge of Chifuyu's range of movement. And aimed a pointed response. "So are you the Black Knight or the White Knight?"

Faster than a snake could strike, Chifuyu closed the distance as she leapt forward and grabbed the girl's right arm. [Ren] did not resist as the older woman had a look at the injury. Also exposed was the red tattoo. There was a split-second flinch from Orimura when she recognized the mark, but she said nothing.

The memory of a flash of blades came to Orimura's mind.

Calmly, Chifuyu let go of [Ren]'s arm. The red tattoo and its meaning were familiar to her, and she looked at the girl with a renewed sense of wariness and distrust. "You've been watching my brother, haven't you? For how long?"

"Since the second Mondo Grosso."

The answer seemed to take Orimura by surprise. She hid it well otherwise, keeping an impassive mask of nonchalance on her face.

"It was right after your brother was kidnapped." [Ren] confirmed. "You were the top-ranked IS pilot at the time, but you pulled out of the competition with your IS to rescue your brother." The girl then gave Orimura an aside glance, treading carefully. "That made a lot of people in the Japanese Government nervous."

"Then let them be nervous." Chifuyu's demeanour did not shift. "Politics don't interest me."

"There was a genuine fear that someone would use your brother to blackmail you into going against them. Some in the Government still think it was the Germans who kidnapped Ichika in the first place." _Like the Koanchosa-cho,_ [Ren] did not add. "To get you to train their IS cadre, of course."

Chifuyu looked at [Ren] doubtfully. "You can't be from the Ministry of Justice." _Far too young,_ she did not add. Orimura kept a cold, professional distance and air to her speech. "Naicho? Or the Johohonbu? Most likely the latter." Chifuyu surmised. "You don't act like one of those desk drones at the Naichou."

[Ren] made no response to the probing questions.

"I thought Tatenashi Sarashiki was in charge of protecting that idiot brother of mine?" There was the slightest of reactions, and Chifuyu noted the split-second scowl on [Ren]'s face at the mention of Sarashiki's name. "Ah. So it's an inter-service rivalry."

"Having an IS shouldn't be the sole reason to choose who protects whom." [Ren] tried, but could not keep the air of petulance out of her voice.

"Don't be an arrogant kid." Orimura felt like slapping the girl, but knew [Ren] would merely dodge it. "An IS changes everything. Even a relatively unskilled IS user can do more damage than a small army."

"There are problems that can't be solved with an IS." If [Ren] was affected by Chifuyu's rebuke, it did not register. "Intelligence gathering. Covert operations. Infiltrating enemy organizations."

"You sound like a man whining about the IS taking away his job."

[Ren] stopped, balling up her right fist. The pain stopped her train of thought, made her rethink her response. Yet still: "My way of thinking is not wrong."

Chifuyu's eyes narrowed. The girl seemed more familiar the more she spoke to her. "I've met you before, haven't I?"

"Have you?"

"If you were one of my students, I'd throw the book at you for that response." Chifuyu regarded the younger woman with her own tight-lipped smile. "Instead of a duel with swords, a knife in the back, is that what you're saying?" She'd meant it as a joke, and had not expected the response. "A knife can never be a sword. The IS is a sword. A long sword, meant to clash with other long swords."

"A good sword is passed down and cared for. A knife, you just use it and throw it away. You can always get another knife." [Ren] tried to shrug in her normal arrogant way, but the pain stopped her. All she could muster was a grimace. "But isn't that alright?"

"So." Chifuyu was ready now, arms crossed and guarded. Ready to make a deal and cautious. "What is it you _really_ want to talk about?"

"I have information you might be able to use."

* * *

><p>He did not see her that day.<p>

Shiho escaped from her family early that day, hoping to see the boy when he came. Her heart beat fast. Either he would stay here in the nearby town, or she would run away and join them. Part of another, better family. One that didn't need to remind Shiho of her lack of value.

She arrived at the spot, excitedly standing in wait. The sun turned the sky blue and she could feel her heart beat fast, even though she had stopped running. She waited.

The sun took its time as it crossed the blue above. Shiho began to tire, and sat down in the same spot. And waited.

And waited.

And waited. Watching the changing colours of the sky.

Blue turned to purple. Purple turned to red. Red into black.

Still she waited. Night fell. And there was nothing at all. No laughter, not even an apology.

"Liar." The child sobbed without crying. "Ichika you liar."

* * *

><p>"Ichika you liar," [Ren] whispered softly under her breath. Walking slowly, she tarried her time. Half-heartedly wanting to loiter in the Academy's grounds for a bit longer.<p>

The information she had passed to Chifuyu was scant, and she had no idea if it meant anything to the woman. Orimura kept a cold face throughout. All she did was nod and advise she would take it into consideration. For all [Ren] knew, the teachers of IS Academy already had good information on what was to happen.

_The Americans will probably strike soon._ Whispers that the Johohonbu had heard, but never confirmed. [Ren] was fairly certain they were more than whispers. _Someone is feeding information to Phantom Task and other groups._

She stopped in her tracks, catching a familiar face not far away.

[Ren] was silent, staring now at the figure in a male IS Academy uniform seated in a parkside bench. Too far, and facing away. There was a concerned look on his face, as if he was waiting intently for someone.

[Ren] bit her lip, and took a quiet step forward.

It was then that she saw his face brighten up. [Ren] froze, stepping to one side to remain unseen. A small troupe of girls ran up to the boy, some were cheerful while the others were quarrelsome. All of them revolved around him, as if he were the sun and they the planets of his universe. At all of this, he laughed and scratched the back of his head.

Just as [Ren] remembered him, ten years ago.

_God, that moron looks so happy._ [Ren] herself could not help but genuinely smile for a split-second. _That bunch of idiots will protect him for me, right?_

"Shiho. Arashikage Shiho." [Ren] whispered to herself, knowing full well the boy and his troupe could not hear her. "That's my name, Ichika. I've kept my promise."

_I became a monster but I still couldn't protect you._

Slowly, silently she left the unknowing group. Feet quiet as she quickened her pace. Away from IS Academy. Heartbeats hurting every step of the way. She made it to the sky-tram without incident, without hesitation.

"If you have been watching him that long, I'm surprised you haven't fallen for him yet."

[Ren] looked to the familiar voice, seeing Haruko seated in the sky-tram. An empty bento box of the convenience store variety was at her feet, and the half-full grocery bag beside it completed the picture. The analyst's peeved expression almost made [Ren] laugh.

"How do you know I haven't?"

_I don't know whether you're joking or if you were dead serious when you said that._ Kokuto grimaced even further as she massaged her legs. "Do you know how long I've been sitting alone inside this stupid thing?"

[Ren] took another look at the grocery bag. "Long enough to finish four cans of coffee."

"Shut up!" The grimace grew wider. Then, the analyst looked [Ren] in the eye. "I could see you, you know. Watching over Orimura and his gang."

Like a snake avoiding a man's eye, [Ren] looked away. "Then I must be getting sloppy."

"Were you? Seriously, I mean. Were you serious about that? About falling for Orimura?"

"Completely serious." [Ren] put her hands in her jacket pockets, and then sat in the opposite seat.

Kokuto remained silent.

"I didn't have his happy childhood, nor the friendships he had. We're not compatible." [Ren] continued without any emotion. Haruko found it hard to read the look in her eyes. As always like a snake, unreadable. "I'm not like Orimura Ichika. My life is a whole different set of experiences and lessons."

Haruko leaned back in her seat. It was another fifteen minutes before they would arrive at the mainland. A lifetime before their much longer trip northward. "Weren't you tempted to just go to him and confess?"

[Ren] did not answer at first. There was a pang of pain in her heart that moment, but it passed quickly. With an arrogant shrug, hiding her snake eyes behind her cap brim, she snorted in mock disgust.

"Not my style."

"You REALLY sure this is alright?"

"Yeah." [Ren] pulled the cap brim down further, trying not to show her face to Haruko. "To him, I don't exist. He mustn't know I exist."

The sky-tram picked up speed, leaving the call of the warm sun behind.

"It's better this way."

* * *

><p>There were heavy footsteps as Ichika slowly dragged his half-dead body to his dorm room. He sighed, possibly for the hundredth time that day. From keeping Laura, Rin and Cecilia from opening fire on one another to avoiding Houki's ire, the remains of his energy were drained from the day's practice session. In front of the room door, he wondered whether or not the girls were getting more out of the practice session than he was. They certainly spent more time duelling each other than training him anything new. <em>If they were more like Charl,<em> he began thinking. Then stopped as he recalled how dangerous a quietly angry Charlotte could also be. _Nevermind. Just leave me alone for tonight._

At that moment, the door opened right in front of him.

"Ja-jaan! A wild Tatenashi onee-san appears~!"

"Oh. It's you." Ichika just look back dumbly at Tatenashi Sarashiki's peppy smile. _At least she's fully clothed this time._

"Just 'oh, it's you'? That's so cruel, Ichika-kun!" Tatenashi replied in her charmingly joking manner. The trademark folding fan popped open, the words 'tease' written on them. "After all we've been through, is that the way you greet me?"

"I don't have energy left." Orimura shambled past Sarashiki, and just fell face first into the bed. There were only two possibilities in his mind: Either Tatenashi was going to tease him again, or she was going to put him through one more practice session. The fact was that he was tired. Too tired to even sleep, as he was still conscious of Tatenashi sitting beside him. The fan gently tapped Ichika's forehead, far more gently than he had been expecting.

_Her scent._ The familiar fragrance of her closeness soothed him despite Ichika's resistance.

"Ichika-kun?" Tatenashi's voice was oddly subdued this time. "Have you had any other childhood friends?"

A tired but still awake Orimura replied "...you're not going to suddenly make up some crazy story about how you're my third childhood friend, are you?"

"Now, why would I do that?" the fan popped open again to hide her fox-like smile, 'Honesty' written on it. Just as quickly it snapped closed. "Do you remember all of your childhood friends?"

"I'm too tired to make a list."

A giggle. "Then, who's the one you first remember?

"Houki." Ichika smiles despite himself, remembering Houki as a child. Sometimes he found it odd that he could not remember anything at all before his sister brought them to live with the Shinonono family, just as he turned five years old. But it had never really bothered him. Even if Rin and his other old friends Dan and Ran complained about how skewed his memories seemed to be on events.

"Would your childhood friends do everything they could to protect you?"

"I would protect them." Orimura said that absently, remembering the Silverio Gospel incident all too well. And of Laura, Cecilia, and Charlotte. "It doesn't matter how long I know them, I would protect them."

"But would your childhood friends do the same thing for you?"

"Houki would do the same for me. Rin, too. And probably even Dan and Ran-you don't know them." He was getting tired. "They're the only ones, I think."

The room went silent. Ichika felt as if Sarashiki were waiting for him to call out another name. She waited a minute longer before standing up.

"Tatenashi-san?"

"Good night, Ichika-kun." She waved goodbye with a smile on her face as she switched off the lights. "You'll be really busy in the future."

The remark puzzled his fatigue-addled brain. Ichika wondered why Sarashiki's cheerful voice sounded different, almost forced. But he quickly lost consciousness to sleep.

* * *

><p>It was dead quiet at twilight when Kokuto halted her car.<p>

The dark blue of the sky was interrupted only by the silent falling of snow. Little patches of white that stuck to the car window only seconds before melting away. Haruko kept the engine and heater running as the vehicle sat on Taisetsu National Highway, on the southern bend where it turned away from the frigid Ishikari River. Daisetsuzan National Park had at its core a volcanic mountain range popular with hikers in summer and skiers in winter. It was not secluded, but in the cold white brush of winter few tourists emerged at night. In the long nights of dark and cold it was ideal for the secretive few to set up camp. The car would travel on through to Sounkyo Gorge and Kitakami, where Kokuto would report back to HQ. But for [Ren] this was the end of the road.

_No backpack, not even a quiver for the arrows._ Haruko sat silently, observing [Ren] do a final check on her gear. During the long days of travel, [Ren] had managed to stitch together the remnants of her old gray clothing with the insulated white ski jacket and pants Haruko had acquired. [Ren] only wore thin gloves, arguing she needed to keep her hands free. The many shuriken and knives were unseen, hidden in pockets and the belt pouches on [Ren]'s body. Only the two short swords and bow were obvious to Kokuto's view. The arrows she carried were eight, all in her hands.

The trip from the warm summer beaches to the cold mountains was spent mostly in silence, save for the occasional question on the mission. Haruko felt uncomfortable, as [Ren] did not bother to ask why this operation had to be carried out, nor to what purpose. Kokuto surmised that by now, she no longer cared. But the silence was something Haruko did not relish. Oddly, she missed the frequent sharp barbs and sarcasm they used to share.

"Have you ever heard the story of the White Snake?"

[Ren] paused in her task of fitting a white balaclava to her face, giving Haruko a blank look.

"It's an old Chinese tale. I just want to talk and keep the air in here warm."

[Ren] pulled off the white mask. "Go ahead."

_That was anticlimactic._ Haruko was expecting at least a single insult, but decided not to push it. "The story goes that a boy named Xu Xian saved a young white snake from death. The white snake then feels indebted to the boy, and spends the next years of her life learning to become human." Kokuto paused at [Ren]'s impatient glare. "Long story short, a lot of weird light novel hijinks happen, among which she becomes friends with a green snake and gets chased down by a Buddhist monk trying to exorcise her. She eventually meets Xu Xian as a young man later on and marries him. Thing is, by this time the monk finally tracks them both down and imprisons the snake. The monk then said their relationship was forbidden by the laws of nature and should never have happened. The end."

"That's a pretty bad ending to a fairy tale."

"People tell fairy tales because they can't tell the truth," Haruko was looking straight ahead. The darkness was deepening, and the snow began to build up. "It doesn't matter if your reasons are good and just. You can't question what's established without being labelled an enemy."

"So I'm as bad as Phantom Task, now?" [Ren] replied. Silence was the response.

The passenger door opened, and cold air cut into the car. [Ren] pulled the white balaclava fit snugly over her mouth and nose, a minor comfort against the frost and snow. The hood of the ski jacket went over that, and only then did Kokuto realize she was looking at [Ren] in her natural state.

_Ninja. A white snake in the snow._

"Kokuto." [Ren] held the bow in her right hand, the clutch of arrows in her left. The darkness made it hard to see her eyes through the white mask. "I'm not the tragic heroine in this story."

"I guess not." Haruko chuckled but found herself unable to follow. _Always staying behind, where I can't make a difference._ Almost an afterthought: "I'll keep you in touch with Ichika's progress."

The wind was beginning to pick up.

"Stop pitying me."

"Pity you? It's the guys you're hunting down I really pity." Haruko spoke with new strength in her voice. Then a smile. "Promise me you'll get back here. It's our job to watch over Orimura Ichika, remember? The job's not done yet."

[Ren] did not turn around.

"I can't make that promise."

The white figure disappeared into the white snow.

* * *

><p>Ice tinkled in the glass, cooling the liquid amber fire as Orimura Chifuyu toyed with it.<p>

Brandy. V.S.O.P. Strong. Chifuyu felt she needed a stiffer drink than usual today, and she was well into her fourth. _Conversations that hold no meaning for one party, but means everything to the other._ Ice sat inside the pouring liquid fire. She began to sip at it, but ended up downing the whole glass. Orimura set it down on the bar table with a clatter, and the bartender was only too happy to refill her drink once more.

"Yamada." Chifuyu softly questioned her companion. "What do you know about Ninja?"

"Ninja? Why the sudden topic?" The bob of green hair that was Yamada Maya comically bent her head to one side. After a few seconds, she decided that Orimura was serious, and responded. "Well, all I know about Ninja are from action movies and stories. It's not like they exist in real life, do they?"

"They once did. Everyone knows a ninja tale. But nobody has the true story." Tinkling. The ice in the near-empty glass played a song as Chifuyu rattled it. "There are many names, alternate readings and meanings. Shinobi. Monomi. Nokizaru. Iga-mono. Read by the Chinese it's pronounced [Ren]-Zhi. Many names, never the same meaning. Or maybe all of the meanings are deliberately false."

"Just like the Ninja themselves?"

"The word itself means nothing." Chifuyu coldly responded, downing her drink once again. "There are many ways to read the word Ninja or Shinobi: 'One who practises the art of invisibility', or 'one who steals away at night'. But there is another way of reading the words." Chifuyu motioned to the bartender, who poured her another shot of brandy. "It can also mean 'One Who Endures'." Outwardly she kept her composed demeanour, but she was fully drunk and knew it all too well. _To do the work of a monster, you must first become a monster._ The senior Orimura almost had a tone of pity with her next words. "One who accepts hardship without reward, or suffers silently being hated by those they protect.

"That's the reason why all ninja lie. Why they encourage stories of their being ruthless, monstrous and inhuman." A clatter as she emptied the next drink. Again, the glass was filled without question. "It's the only way they can protect their hearts from breaking."

Maya, who had absolutely no idea what Chifuyu was talking about, was content to just nod and smile.

_I don't want my brother anywhere near her._ Silently, she downed her drink in one gulp, the cold fire of alcohol comforting in her gut. _She's me._ Chifuyu could not smile at the realization. _She's the younger me, the me that I could have become. If I had more arrogance than skill. If I had made more mistakes in life._

_The me that never had Ichika._ Staring into the glass, she could see only her own eyes looking back at her. _Someone who can no longer be saved._

* * *

><p>Progress was slow through the snow-whipped night.<p>

In the snow, her grey and white suit was invisible. The wind would howl, and then suddenly stop. Along with it the snow crystals would either dance lightly or cut at what little was exposed of her face. The cold weather in the valley areas would drop to -4.1 degrees centigrade, but in the mountains it was -10 degrees. That would drop even further the longer at night she stayed. The snow began to curdle in the gust.

Whiteout. When snow and wind struck so strong, that there was no sky and no soil. The sounds of wind made it difficult to hear.

The white was more perfect than darkness.

She stopped in the emptiness. Nothing could be done, as she could not risk losing her way in the near-blizzard. All she could do was stay her ground, wait out the gusts. Alone in the frost of the mountain, [Ren] sat cross-legged in the snow. She set the bow and arrows pinned between legs and right ankle, not wanting to risk their loss. Slowly, her limbs began to numb, but not from the cold.

Focus. Concentration on the task.

Her hands interlocked, and she made gestures known only to herself. The nine kuji-in, hand symbols used to focus one's thoughts in meditation. The symbols both had meaning and had none. A tool, like any blade in [Ren]'s arsenal. Originally a Buddhist form of prayer, people long thought these were forms of dark and haunted ninja magic. The Arashikage clan did not bother to correct that misconception.

Time passed so quickly for others, but to her the seconds drew out like churning ages. Nerves slowed, drawing out the small agonies she still felt. Winter moved backward as her mind slowly lost track of pain. The cold. The heat of her breath under her mask.

Focus.

The mind-set of the Arashikage. The cold was forgotten now. The stabbing pain in her right arm and leg continued, but the meaning of that pain faded from view as she picked up her weapons and stood against the wind. Carefully she tested the bow, ensuring the ice and frost had not frozen the cams and wheels on it.

Memory.

Long before she was taught to throw knives, her father taught her this skill. It honed her ability to aim and strike targets. Knives, shuriken and other improvised thrown objects became more practical and common in her line of work, but she began learning with the bow and arrow.

The art of the longbow was a samurai's skill, as much as the long sword was a samurai's weapon. Like the art of the sword, the art of the bow was passed down with meticulously prescribed technique, ceremony and ritual. For show, not for practical use. [Ren] had no use for ceremony. The bow existed to hit targets at range. A shorter bow, lacking in the range and size of the traditional longbow of old, was more useful to her line of work. Easily carried. Lightweight and durable. And the compound bow she used allowed for more power and range than a traditional short bow of the same size.

She pulled the drawstring, a mild pressure on her right arm. The pain was not gone. It was still there, but merely as a reminder. It did not hinder her, and her thoughts were free of it. The task at hand was all she could think of.

A sound.

Three of the eight arrows were now in her left hand, and she notched one, pointed forward and guiding her way. The other two were hooked between her two small fingers, ready for fast follow-up shots. She wasn't hitting distant targets, but people just a few meters outside her arm's reach.

_The Ear that Sees._ Her father taught her that skill as well. In a place where vision is unreliable, [Ren] listened intently. Filtering out the noises of wind and snow. She could not shoot on sight, but she could hear them. The steps in the snow, the breaths. The occasional sneeze or muttered curse. Cold wind and the mildly irritating scent of sulphur. [Ren] remembered that the peaks at Daisetsuzan were all volcanoes, of varying levels of activity. This was one of the many reasons Hokkaido was still popular in the chill of winter; natural hot springs. It was that same reason her targets were stationed here as well.

Hot and cold hell, in the same place.

The whiteout continued, masking her approach to the site. She stopped when the edge of her eye caught movement.

There was a shadow in the white mass.

[Ren] let her instincts, sound and scent guide her, loosing the main arrow. It flew, silent save for the quivering of the drawstring in the cold wind.

The slim shaft penetrated the soft area behind a man's ear. The shadow jerked a second, then slid helplessly to the ground. Silent, small steps in the snow followed as [Ren] checked the body. _Tall. Pistol in belt. Mobile phone._ A glance at the man's hand. _Just out taking a smoke. Probably to avoid the sulphur smell._ She was satisfied with her handiwork as the dead man glared back at her accusingly. She pulled the arrow out of the man's skull, wiping off the blood and gore with the snow.

Without another word, [Ren] moved away. She could not trust the white snow and howling wind to last long enough for this mission. A hidden part of her mind excitedly whispered how much easier this was when allowed to kill. Another part felt shame, dreading to think what Ichika would have said or felt about killing. But the mind that was in control only saw these ideas in periphery. _Unimportant to the task at hand._

Buildings. No, structures. In the white, there were only the ghostly frames of buildings. Two, maybe three structures that resembled apartments in the cold and grey night. Abandoned housing and offices among the volcanic mountains above the clouds, a commune for a sulphur mine that never got off the ground. The imaginative part of [Ren]'s mind thought of the people here, making their home in a cemetery. The cynical part felt it appropriate for the work she was about to do.

We drove on featureless roads up and down oddly rolling hills for nearly an hour before we finally sighted the battleship-like apartments through the mist. At each crest of a hill we'd stop and pile out of the car, wander off the verge and stare out into the white.

Voices. [Ren] froze but kept the bow steady, unsure of how many were coming her way.

"...swear if he's frozen to death while smoking, I'm going to laugh!" The voice rather than the man cut through the white wind.

"If we find him. It's all goddamn snow. Up, down, left right. Everywhere." A hoarse, angry voice yelled out. A pair of blurred figures moved through the snow. "A whole Self-Defence Force tank battalion could be ten feet in front us and we wouldn't even know they were there."

The hissing of a radio. The voice was more subdued and difficult to hear.

[Ren] held the bowstring tightly, wondering if she had been found. A curse and an afterthought, as she wondered if she should have buried the first body. _Haruko would have told me to leave him alone and sneak past._

"I wish they'd hurry up and finish up here. My fingers are freezing off!"

Finally they emerged from the whiteout, two large figures in thick winter clothing. The lead one had a flashlight and handgun out, the snow folding like mist around them. The second was too far away for [Ren] to see. The first man strode past, unaware.

Then the figure of the second man stopped and turned curiously in her direction.

No hesitation.

The first arrow flew, and a gurgled surprise came from the second man's throat. The second was just as rapid, and an electrical pop sounded at the death of the radio. The third shot was fired just in time to puncture the first man's face as he spun around.

[Ren] did not bother to check the bodies or retrieve her arrows, turning toward the ruined buildings.

_Would he hate me?_ There was no pause in her stride as she pulled another three arrows from her right hand. The thoughts in her head were dispassionate, far removed from what she was actually doing. _That idiot would hate me. I'm sure of it._

The building she entered was empty, wind howling through the open and shattered windows. But here, the effect of the snow was at least limited. Walking through the empty corridors [Ren]'s vision improved. She made no noise creeping through the building's rotted-through concrete steps and halls, covered in a thin layer snow. Only a casual glance told her that there had been people here. A door ajar, showing the abandoned bed and shelves within. Communal baths with their yellowed white tiles falling into the pure white of the snow. The acoustics of the ruins made it sound like there were more men, further away than she knew they were.

The scent of sulphur grew stronger. [Ren] took a look up at the sign at the corner.

_Gymnasium._ The community was meant to stand on its own, while mining sulphur and other materials. Facilities, housing and amenities all on the same grounds. The smell of sulphur was growing stronger, almost beckoning [Ren] forward. It grew both brighter and warmer as she approached, and her pace slowed. There were low, subdued voices as if discussions were ongoing. [Ren] stopped at the corner of a doorway. The voices were more distinct, but the echoes in the building made it harder for her to determine numbers. It was also too risky to peer around the corner or use one of her more polished blades as a mirror.

She set the bow down and took out her tanto. There were cracks in the rotted wooden door frame, which she slowly and quietly widened using the knife's chisel edge. It did not take long for her to make a peephole.

_Eight men. Four with submachineguns. Five arrows._ She sighted through the peephole. There were cracks in the ground, which was likely the source of heat. And some mechanical equipment she did not recognize. [Ren] doubted she could hit more than three before the rest would pepper her with gunfire. They were preoccupied with their project, with terms [Ren] could not understand, nor did she care about. _I only need to hit the target._

She spun around the corner and took aim. _Finish it in one shot._

**-CRACK.**

The bow exploded in [Ren]'s hands as the gunfire shattered the top camwheel. The bowstring whipped around, nearly striking her eye. She dropped the now-useless weapon and ducked behind the wall, gritting her teeth as her ears were assaulted by the echoes of automatic fire. Just as suddenly, the firing stopped.

"I'm a little disappointed that the government only sent one assassin!" A man's voice boasted from within.

_So we have a talker._ [Ren]'s left hand pulled out a pair of throwing darts, even as she began regretting the injury in her right arm. If she had full ability for both arms, she would just throw her blades at the enemy. There were enough blades for it, but one arm alone couldn't hurl the weapons fast enough or far enough. At best she could wield her shorter sword, use her right like a shield. But there was no way she could use it offensively.

Quickly, she ran out of the hallway. The gunmen would follow.

Leaping through the empty windows, back into the snow. Sudden chill, from the warmer indoors back into the storm. [Ren] barely heard gunfire following her but did not throw the knives. _Firing blind, or herding me?_ [Ren]'s right arm gripped the handle of her Wakizashi, but did not draw the weapon out.

"Do they pay you idiots to think at all?"

[Ren] could hear the shouting over the wind and snow but could not pinpoint its exact location. She scuttled like a crab along the ground, trying to find a target. Her eyes hadn't readjusted from the light indoors, and it was difficult to hear as the wind seemed even stronger than earlier.

"Do you even know who you're targeting? I'm Kanemaru Oura! KANEMARU OURA!"

_I know damn well who you are._ [Ren]'s grip tightened on the two throwing knives.

Former Representative for Kanagawa, Kanemaru Oura. A man who was known to be loud and pro-military but otherwise pedestrian in his political career. On retirement, he became a consultant for the US-based Constellis Holdings Private Security firm. Senior Japanese bureaucrats retiring to companies after their stint in government was nothing new; it was practically institutionalized in Japan. Not long afterward, the Johohonbu suspected him of security leaks and the more reluctant Department of Justice agreed. The disgraced ex-politician was later acquitted but asked to leave quietly.

Oura refused to go quietly.

He also promised to get back at the government for this. Politicians making threats were nothing new, but Oura was serious. The last information gleaned by the Johohonbu was that he was organizing some sort of operation in Hokkaido.

_Which is where I come in._ The reasons for this mission were unimportant. [Ren] had to focus on the task, without distraction. She then heard a soft sound like a rock being dropped, as something was tossed in the snow next to her. A grey-green cylinder with yellow band-

Grenade.

_Goddamnit._ [Ren] suddenly wondered about karma. Instantly she bolted, before the object exploded. The blast hit her hard, throwing her yards away but without shrapnel. _Concussion Grenade._ Her ears were ringing painfully. The balaclava and hood did nothing to soften the explosive pressure. More important, she could not hear her enemy and was forced to rely on her sight. Reflexively she threw the knives where the grenade thrower had been, then ran. There was gunfire, but it sounded murky through her deafened ears. She started to feel more pain, realizing she'd landed on her still-healing ribs. Her legs started to ache as she finally turned around another corner of the building. Quickly, she drew out more weapons with her left hand. Shuriken this time. The star-pointed blades would not penetrate as deeply as a proper throwing knife but had more range due to its spin.

"...but the rest of the world goes on." Kanemaru was still talking, yelling into the snow. [Ren]'s hearing was improving as the clipped voices of other people could now be heard. Warning the man to stay down. "But I won't make you forget! Japan needs a proper military force! Japan needs **ME!**"

_He didn't stop ranting, through all of that?_ [Ren] found herself relying more on her sight despite the white darkness. Whether her target was serious about his promise did not matter. An adrenaline thrill raced through her veins, realizing she just might enjoy killing her target. _Small name, big ego._ Her smile became cold and wicked.

_Why does he have to die?_

[Ren] paused, mind suddenly blank. Espionage and assassination were her skills. Unloved by her clan but with too much training invested, she was made into the Johohonbu's knife. From childhood to her pre-teen years, a weapon used against threats to the Japanese Government. Following orders but never once questioning them. She never thought of questioning her orders before.

_You never had a problem with it before._

Before, she hadn't been guarding Ichika.

_That's not your job anymore._ Nervously, she tightened her right fist. Still some pain. Feeling it now. The Arashikage mind-set's focus, her ability to ignore pain and function normally was broken. _It's not like you can do anything for that idiot any longer._

Almost too late, she heard a foot crunch behind her. Spinning around, she flung the star-shaped blades into the man's eyes. He screamed, and [Ren] knocked him aside. He was unarmed, not that it mattered to her. _Keep focused._ She cursed herself for being sloppy. _Don't think, act._

Gunfire followed the screaming. The guards, possibly mercenaries Kanemaru had hired. Controlled bursts, trying to draw a bead on her. [Ren] pulled out more shuriken, and started throwing them at and into the building. As expected, the noises of metal on broken concrete or wood were followed by the expected bursts of submachinegun fire. [Ren]'s ears had recovered enough to pinpoint the source of gunfire, as she followed up by hurling straight-bladed throwing knives at the gunmen.

Shuriken to draw their fire, straight knives to the actual target. [Ren] figured she could do this a few more times before they got wise to it, even though the sudden yelps told her that the blades hit home. Too far to be fatal, but definite hits.

_Be glad they don't have infrared goggles._ Or the multi-phase vision available on some types of IS. Oddly, [Ren] wondered whether Ichika's Byakushiki had the same capability. _Stop living in the past or you'll die in the present._

The gunfire stopped.

_They're quick to catch on._ [Ren] took out more of her throwing blades, noticing her lightness of weight. She was running out of blades and shuriken too quickly. Footsteps following but she could not tell how close. Further she ran into the abandoned town. Wooden shacks rotting in the snow, construction workers' huts. The place had never been finished before it had closed. Cracked windows spattered with mud and frost glinted slightly back at her, as if the snow itself was giving off an unearthly, glowing light.

_Daylight's coming._ [Ren] realized it was not an illusion. It was growing lighter, and still the snowstorm dulled her vision.

_It's a boy's job to protect a girl, you know._

All of a sudden, she thought she heard Ichika's voice in her mind. And then, her father's voice.

_Pay attention to your surroundings._

The sound of footsteps in snow had vanished.

_Ambush?_ [Ren] stopped in her tracks, ears and eyes tensed and seeking out some form of stimuli.

She could hear the man rushing at her before she saw him, an indeterminate object in his hand.

_Knife._ Her left hand flicked upward, a snake spitting venom. Her weapon was a thin blade, optimized for straight flight. Pinpoint hit to the wrist, forcing the man to drop the object as he cries out. Not a knife. A now-familiar soft sound in the snow.

Another concussion grenade.

[Ren] bolts, even as the man clumsily fumbles for the weapon. The sudden blast flings her sideways. A wooden shack broke her fall. [Ren] was thankful that she was being slammed into her left side. Balancing out the pain. She was more prepared this time, rolling with the blast and coming to a stop on her knees.

_Stupid._ [Ren] tore the splinter-filled balaclava from her face. She couldn't tell if the shredding pain was from the cold of the splinters ripping into her face. _Careless. Stupid._

A click. Metal on metal, a gun being readied.

_Oura._

"Keep those hands away from your swords." Gun trembling in his hand, a mix of terror and delight on Kanemaru's face. He was alone, possibly trailing his bodyguards when they went after [Ren] in the storm. The wind was beginning to die out, and she could clearly see the man's face. "Stay on your knees. Hands on the ground."

[Ren] silently obeyed, hands in the cold snow. Oura hadn't yelled out to his colleagues but the explosion would bring them round soon enough.

"Not so scary without your knives, eh?" Only brave against a girl when holding a weapon. The courage granted by holding a gun, not a true courage. Nowhere near bravery. "Those cowards in the Diet couldn't even face me in a fair fight!"

"Cowards?" [Ren] could not help but mock the man. The pistol he held was more like a toy than an actual weapon, the way he held it. "This coming from someone too scared to face a little girl without a gun."

"I'm not stupid!" He spat in the tone of a fool after being found out. "I know the Johohonbu sent you! You're all afraid of me!" The politician was forcing himself to smile. Faking courage that he had none of. "You want me silenced. Why?"

"Not my department. Not my job."

"Because you're afraid of me, that's why! You're afraid of Kanemaru Oura!" A ham actor, finally given his captive audience. A small part of [Ren] wished he wouldn't try to kill her with bloated monologue. "You're afraid because you know I'm right! I am the hope for Japan! I am a patriot!"

_You're a loony._ [Ren] realized she didn't really care why Kanemaru Oura was marked for death, and that it didn't really matter. All she wanted to do was make him shut up. Permanently.

"It no longer matters." Kanemaru's laugh was off-kilter, like a record being scratched while playing. "What can you do? You have no weapons left!"

Oura was wrong. There were weapons all around her. Shards of cold icicles were mixed in uneven, jagged edges like shattered glass sticking out of the snow and street. They were swimming in a sea of cold swords.

"A knife is just a tool to be used and thrown away. Not even worth the respect and value of a sword. But more great men were killed by a knife than with a sword." The words from the girl's lips seemed to cause the air to freeze. "And you're not much of a man, either."

Kanemaru fidgeted, holding his gun in both hands but visibly trembling. "How dare you speak to me like that!"

"Because you're nothing." [Ren] remained kneeling, hands in the snow and ice. Her right hand clutched a good-sized icicle. Just the right length. "You're just another target."

"What'll you do? Throw a snowball at me?"

"Yes." [Ren] smiled her devilishly cruel smile. "Bet your life on it?"

"Watch the suit, little girl." He laughed aloud, carelessly pointing at her with his pistol. "I'll kill you if you stain it."

The wind whistled in the cold, piercing even his insides. A second later, the man realized it was not the wind or the cold that he was feeling. The assassin was holding her right arm straight. As though she had thrown something. Frightened, Oura looked down.

Blood staining the snow and pinkish garbled flesh was running from the insides of his stomach down to his pants leg. The blunt end of an icicle sticking out of his abdomen, which he never noticed even being there. He didn't even see her throw the weapon. There wasn't even pain until he realized that the slowly growing hole in his stomach really should hurt.

"Oh, I'm sorry." [Ren] sneered back, even as she felt the muscles in her right arm spasm in white-hot pain. "I cut your suit."

Oura stammered silently, suddenly kneeling. Frustrated, angry. But unable to give voice to them. The talkative man, unable to speak as he dropped facefirst into the snow.

There was no remorse. But neither was there was no exhilaration.

_It feels empty._ [Ren] found herself giggling despite standing in the cold silence. A slightly mad, empty laugh as she looked up at the incoming footsteps in the snow. By now, the wind and snow had stopped, and [Ren] was in clear daylight.

The guards had finally caught up to her.

_What took you so long?_ [Ren] resisted the urge to insult them openly. They were angry. Some had blood streaking across their suits and faces. Some of them still had her knives sticking out of their arms. Injured and scared, but most of all angry.

[Ren] drew her swords. Her real swords. Straight and curved. Her right hand lancing in pain as she carried the handle tightly.

The men had their guns drawn. The guards formed a wall between her and freedom.

_Say what you may._ [Ren] wielded her blades backhanded, as her father and his forefathers before had when taking a life. With a bitter but rare honest smile. _In the end I am still my father's child._

Gunfire erupted.

* * *

><p>Words. All words.<p>

Kokuto sat silently in her seat, eyes fixed on a blank point in front of her. The words spoken made no sense to her, and she made no effort to understand them. It was just more of the same. More of the Japanese bureaucratic formality that ordinary people could not understand. The Johohonbu regional office desk carried on its paperwork as if nothing was happening. Saving face, pretending that all was well.

They were blind, and Haruko alone could see.

Heads were rolling, figuratively and literally. The reassignments were being treated as routine, but the truth was the Johohonbu was now being taken apart. Small and large pieces both removed. Most of the top-ranked at HQ had already resigned. Two had already committed suicide rather than face the shame. Not many knew what the real cause of the change was. Those that did cursed the existence of [Ren] and the actions she took that ruined them.

All on target. As if it had been planned from the very beginning. Haruko thought of her secret thumbdrive, and was tempted to spill her findings. But that would be pointless. The man in front of her was a desk drone, one who wouldn't know the value of proper intelligence if it was handed to him via street parade.

Or was he really as mindless as he seemed?

_Could Phantom Task have already infiltrated the Johohonbu?_ Despite herself, Kokuto smirked. _Does it even matter?_ Even if the organization still existed, the Johohonbu's sterling reputation was in ruins. The formalities, the paperwork involved. Being transferred to the regional liaison desk was a career-ending role. Everything Haruko was being put through now was a farce. They were putting her aside, in a position where she could do nothing but quietly follow orders.

Many other agents were being shuffled around, or losing their jobs entirely. With the backing of the Government and the Ministry of Justice, the Koanchosa-cho was now effectively neutering its rival.

_What next, a pre-war Japan police state?_ The memory of the raided apartment was back in her mind. That was probably an exaggeration, but the change meant subtlety was going to be ignored from here on.

"When we find the body, you will be called forth to identify it."

"You won't find a body." Haruko replied.

The desk agent did not bat an eyelash, not even registering what was said. "Your reassignment will take place in a week, Agent Kokuto. Please take that time to reflect on your actions and ensure accidents do not occur again in the future."

"You won't find a body." Haruko repeated. "She's alive."

"Agent Kokuto, your dedication to your work and colleagues is noted and appreciated. But please understand and accept your new assignment." He did not once look at her, much less empathize. "That will be all."

"She's still alive."

Flat. Bored. The Desk agent simply asked: "And that changes things...how?"

Haruko opened her mouth, but stopped. Gritting her teeth was all she could do in the face of bureaucracy. But she could not help giving at least one parting shot. "You really think you're doing the right thing?"

No response. The senior agent was already thinking of more important matters, such as his transfer papers to the Koanchosa-cho and his upcoming vacation to Hawaii.


End file.
